For Blue Skies
by SJKDarling
Summary: When faced with an enemy that she can't hack and Oliver can't shoot, Team Arrow has to decide what is important and what isn't. Completely unprepared, Oliver and Felicity must come to terms with what this might mean for the team, for the city, for the company, and for them. Rated T for language. Slow burn Olicity - Cancer!Olicity story.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Arrow.**

* * *

She always knew that she would die by the hand of some madman, hellbent on destroying Starling and/or The Arrow. She didn't begrudge that fact. It wasn't a sudden revelation she had or an epiphany after patching up Oliver and Dig so many times. It was just a given in her life. The sky was blue, and she was going to be killed by a bad guy.

She didn't dare try to explain this to Oliver. She knew better than that. She didn't even really talk about it with Dig. But sometimes she could see it in his eyes after she got a little too close to danger, or a mission went poorly and everything got shot to hell. Dig had the same look that she knew she had. A resignation of sorts. A 'this is something that could happen, and probably will happen at a later date' kind of look. It was impossible to have good luck always, and as far as she was concerned, she was probably on her fifth life or so already. It wasn't like she wanted to die at all. She was definitely pro-life. Not in the anti-abortion kind of way - not that she would ever say that she was _pro-_abortion, because that's not what she was at all and she doubted anyone really was, because that's actually pro-choice, which was a different thing altogether but if she was given a choice to live and to die, she would choose to live which kind of made her pro-choice and pro-life all at once and what was she thinking about again?

Pro-life. She was pro _her_ life, absolutely. She did not want to die and had no intention of dying before her time, but she knew that life didn't always go according to intentions. She didn't take any unnecessary risks, she kept herself safe, even training with Sara in self defense, but that didn't guarantee her a long life, free of bad guys shooting at her.

She had made her peace, in advance. Not that she thought her death would be peaceful, really. If anything, she was going out with a fight. Her 'sky is blue' mantra may have sounded calm in her head, but she knew that there was going to be nothing calm about someone trying to kill her. She used to joke with Sara that if she wasn't paralyzed with fear when a bad guy grabbed her, she would probably just confuse the hell out of him by trying to do every self defense move she had ever learned all at once. That's just what she was: a frenzy of energy and life and fight. She didn't want to die, no matter how much 'peace' she had made with it.

Her phone kept ringing incessantly and buzzing in her pocket and she knew she was being that obnoxious woman on the street, ignoring her cell phone. Not only that but she knew that if she didn't answer it soon, she was probably going to be tracked down and rescued by the scariest, prettiest, most caring vigilantes in all of Starling. She gave herself one more minute, just a few more moments of peace, to get herself together, before answering her phone.

She looked down in her hands at the pamphlet she held. It was bright cheery yellow and the words were cartoonish in style and size and she really wanted to punch whoever designed it. She ripped it in half and threw the pieces to the ground. She would get any information she needed off the internet, as always. She didn't need that pamphlet with its fake sincerity and smiling faces.

The paper was heavy, hence only the ripping of it in half, and the pieces fell to the ground as if they were weighted with magnets. They didn't blow away in the wind, they didn't even flip around. They fell exactly as they were, but now with an inch separating them. She looked down and got irrationally angry. She couldn't even rip the damn thing right - she had torn it in half horizontally, not vertically, and all she had accomplished was separating the words on top from the picture of a way-too-happy couple on a picnic on the bottom.

The pieces of the pamphlet mocked her from the sidewalk and she almost raised her heel to step on them, to crush the pamphlet into the concrete just a little bit more, make it dirty and unhappy like it was _supposed to be_ but she knew that if she did, with her luck all she would succeed in was getting it stuck to her shoe. And she didn't want to carry it around any longer than she already had. Her eyes clouded with tears, but she didn't need to read the words on the ground. She had memorized what they said the second it was thrust into her hands by her doctor.

**So You Found Out You Have Cancer - Now What?**

A rain drop plopped heavily on her forearm at that moment, its weight surprising her. She looked up to see the rain clouds that had moved in unnoticed by her.

The sky wasn't blue today, and for the first time since she had started to work with Team Arrow, Felicity Smoak wasn't entirely sure she was going to die from the hands of a madman.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so...oops. This is my first Arrow story that I've worked on, and I really was just interested in what would happen when there was a threat to Felicity's life that Oliver couldn't fight with his bow. I don't think I have seen something like this done before (although it is entirely possible that it has been done - I did not dig through every single fantastic Arrow story out there!) and hopefully the plot is intriguing enough to you guys as well.**

**It was originally going to be a one-shot, a bit longer than this, but now I've got about 50,000 words written and it is certainly not a one-shot. It is a beast.**

**I struggled with posting this part first, since it essentially tells you what the story will be about, but figured it wasn't ruining anything, but actually preparing you. In the chapters to come, you will see the weeks coming up to the diagnosis and then everything after it. **

**This subject matter is extremely close to me and I promise to treat it with the respect it deserves. I'll go ahead and post the next chapter tonight as well, even though it is longer than I intended. (Story of this...story?)**


	2. It's Not What It Looks Like

**A/N: If I had to place this, I would say somewhere in season 2 but sans-Slade's drama. Sara is back and not with Oliver, Roy is on Team Arrow (and he's funny!) and Oliver and Felicity are hovering around each other per usual. The joy in a story like this is how each and every character is affected, so I admit that a lot of this chapter is simply exploring the relationships and dynamics of the team. I hope you enjoy this!**

**Disclaimer: I, again, do not own Arrow.**

* * *

_10 days prior_

Felicity Smoak was not used to feeling inferior. Well, intellectually inferior at least. Since working with Team Arrow, she was acutely aware of just how inferior she was in a variety of other categories, most notably physical fitness. Which was why when she asked Dig if he could help her come up with a training regimen, she was not that surprised to receive a variety of responses from everyone.

Dig had pulled her aside and asked if she felt like she needed to compete with Sara.

Oliver had pulled her aside and asked if she felt like he wasn't protecting her well enough.

Sara had pulled her aside and said that she would help with some self-defense moves if she wanted and _then_ asked if she was trying to impress Oliver. But she had done it with her cute little Sara smirk and a glint in her eyes and Felicity couldn't even find the strength to get riled at her.

She had been training for a little over a month and had felt some noticeable differences. Dig had came up with a pretty solid training program for someone of her skills and stature and had even gotten her a treadmill for the lair, something she was convinced Oliver would veto but it remained after an intense glare-off between the men. Sara was routinely kicking her ass but she felt like she was finally able to dodge at least a _few_ of the punches and kicks, which was really all she needed.

She had just finished an embarrassingly short run on the treadmill - seriously, barely ten minutes and she was convinced her lungs were about to fail on her. She sat at the bottom of the unplugged treadmill (her own personal brand of vengeance on an electrical appliance that had failed her), sweating her ass off and trying to get her breath under control when Oliver found her.

He didn't even try to hide the smile as he saw her sitting there with a towel slung across her shoulders. She narrowed her eyes, daring him to say something. He had definitely saw her start to work out not three iPod songs earlier, and now he was witnessing her having what she could only imagine a panic attack felt like.

"Good workout?"

"We can't all be Greek gods, Oliver."

It probably would've been a lot more biting if she hadn't had to puff out air between each word. His smile spread though and she relished it; he was in a good mood that day, having caught and had SCPD put away a husband and wife villain couple that were running a human trafficking ring at the docks the night before.

He went to the small fridge they kept in the training area and pulled out a bottle of water, nudging her in the head with it before she gathered the strength to grab it from him and guzzle unabashedly. She loved 'Light Oliver,' when he was still riding high on endorphins or whatever kind of rush he got from catching and putting away bad guys. She knew that in a day or so he would be focused on the next big bad to come into town, but for now, they had a win, and they were allowed to celebrate it.

After a few more moments of comfortable silence, she took his proffered hand and pulled herself up off the offending machine.

"Will I see you tonight?" Oliver's words were casual, but she knew he was looking for a lifeline. Thea was throwing him a birthday party upstairs at Verdant that night and while half the city was coming, Oliver was hoping that he could celebrate his birthday with the people he actually cared about, and cared about him in return.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," she told him happily, walking across the room to her gym bag with her street clothes (there was no way she was going to even attempt to spar with Sara this afternoon). She bent over, rifling through it, trying to find the headband that she knew she kept in the side pocket but never remembered to wear when working out. "In fact, just wait until you see my gift-"

"_Felicity!_" Oliver sounded downright shocked with her, like she had just insulted her mother. Not that that was out of the realm of possibilities, because she didn't particularly like Moira Queen, and if she remembered clearly, she probably _had_ said some offensive things about her in front of Oliver before she didn't remember his voice sounding remotely like that...

Distracted with thoughts of his mother, she didn't straighten up, just tossed a look over her shoulder. "What?"

Oliver crossed the room in three paces, stopping immediately behind her. His fingers ghosted along her skin right where her shirt had ridden up her back, just above the waistline of her yoga pants. Goosebumps erupted along her skin and she knew that there was no way he _hadn't_ noticed. But instead of him smirking at her knowingly - or even commenting, given his current happy mood - his face remained serious and stoic and his eyes firmly fixed on her back.

She still hadn't straightened up yet, not willing to break the contact between his fingertips and her skin, which was how Dig found them when Oliver called for him suddenly. Felicity bent over at the waist, her rear brushing against the front of Oliver's slacks, with his hands on her waist.

"Did you really call me in to witness this because if so, we need to have a serious talk about boundaries."

Feeling a flush creep all the way up her body, Felicity stood abruptly, whirling around to face Dig.

"No! It's not what it looks like!"

"Oh? Than what was it then?"

"It was -" she stopped, realizing she had no idea what had just happened, and turned to Oliver. "I don't know. What was it then?"

"You said you were being careful with her," Oliver gritted out, looking furiously at Dig.

"The hell are you talking about?"

So quick she wasn't really sure what happened, Oliver had twisted her around, back to facing her gym bag, and lifted up the back of her tank top. She heard Dig let out a low whistle.

"Don't look at me man, I just came up with the schedule. Sara does all the training."

Frustrated with being a topic of conversation rather than a participant, but not willing to sacrifice Oliver's hands on her skin (why did they feel so soft when she knew they were rough and calloused?) she looked over her shoulder, this time staring at Dig.

"The hell are _you_ talking about now?"

No reply was given and Oliver's hands left her back, her tank top falling back down.

"Sara!" He called out, walking purposefully through the lair.

Felicity gave Dig a wild, somewhat accusing look, convinced this was somehow his fault, before she ran after Oliver. He had found Sara sitting at the med bay, taping a gauze pad to her ankle, dried blood on antibacterial towels all around her.

"What happened?!" Felicity forgot all about the drama surrounding herself for a brief minute, more concerned with her friend and all the blood that was no longer in her body.

"Dog nipped me, can you believe it? Not even a cool story."

"Are you okay?" Felicity's eyes trailed along the many towelettes and gauze that littered the med bay area now, most of which were maroon.

"Yeah, it wasn't that deep, just bled a lot and I didn't want to clean it up on the road." Sara rolled down her pant leg and Felicity gave her a side-eye as she saw the holes and tears that had decimated the last eight inches of her pant. "It was a big nip."

Ignoring her blatant down-playing of the situation, Felicity just rolled her eyes and started to collect the used bandages.

"Did you need me, Ollie?"

"I thought we decided that Felicity's training was going to be incremental. That you would gradually work up to intense physical combat?"

"We sure did, and our girl's doing great," Sara grinned, bumping her shoulder against Felicity who still moved around her, gathering trash. She did, however, have time to look up and stick her tongue out at Oliver in a very mature gesture of superiority. "She's a tough cookie, Ollie, don't worry so much."

"I do worry, especially if you're sending her home with stuff like this." Once again, Felicity found herself spun away, and Oliver's hands pulling up her tank top. She briefly made eye contact with Dig before realizing she probably shouldn't be enjoying Oliver manhandling her nearly as much, especially when there were so many witnesses around.

"Stuff like what-" Felicity craned her head as far as she could and finally caught a glimpse of what Oliver had been talking about. A huge bruise, probably the size of her hand spread out, blossomed over her lower back and left side. It was an angry red, with dark purple and black in the center and for the life of her, she couldn't remember what move exactly must have caused it. Before she could spend too much time pondering that, another thought hit her and she let out a frustrated growl.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked quickly.

"My dress," Felicity whined to Sara. She wanted to stomp her foot and cry but she thought maybe that would be overkill. She was seriously bummed though.

"What dress?" Dig asked, since Oliver looked too stunned at her train of thought to comment.

"My dress for tonight! Sara got me this really cute black dress with a big cut out on the back and doubt I can wear it now. What am I going to wear?"

"Felicity." Oliver dragged her name out, drawing her attention as it always did. "You have a bruise the size of Central City on your back and you're worried about an outfit to a party?"

"It is your _birthday_ party and some of us can't just wear the same thing every single time we go out or to the board room and still look fantastic so _yes_ I am worried about an outfit for a party!"

"Ooh, I think I have an idea about the dress," Sara piped up.

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, looking sufficiently put out with the lot of them.

"You," he pointed to Sara. "Be more careful with her. You," he turned to Felicity, "Take care of yourself. Put some arnica gel on that before you leave. I am sure you will look good in whatever you wear tonight so please, don't worry about it."

"Sir, yes sir!" For the first time in the last ten minutes, she saw another Light Oliver (LO, as she had dubbed it) smile try to spread across his face.

"And you," he turned to Dig, "come spar with me. I need to hit something."

"Thanks a lot," Dig muttered good-naturedly to Felicity before following Oliver to the training room, both of them ignoring the laughs and whispers of the two girls behind them.

* * *

Felicity wasn't sure when her and Sara became such good friends. It was one of those things that she didn't even notice it was happening until she looked around one day and realized that half the bottles of wine in her house were white because it was Sara's preference and there was a legitimate stockpile of Chunky Monkey pints in her freezer next to her mint chocolate chip.

But it was times like these that she genuinely questioned her sanity when it came to her friendship with the wild child.

She stepped out of her bathroom, eyes pleading with Sara. They both spoke at the same time.

"You're insane."

"I'm a genius!"

Sara was clearly pleased with her idea to fix Felicity's dress dilemma, but why, Felicity had no idea. She had picked up the bodycon dress earlier that week and brought it to Felicity with the simple instruction of "you're going to wear this to Ollie's party this weekend and you will look Smoakin'." She was literally the only person who could get away with making that pun to her and not get a smack. Mostly because Sara could block her smack and quite possibly give her another bruise to match her current problematic one.

The dress was one of the tightest she had ever worn, conforming to her body like a second skin. The cut out, which was designed to be a triangle along her lower back, was currently tapering off right underneath Felicity's cleavage.

"I'm wearing a dress _backwards_."

"First of all, you look fantastic. Besides, you can wear whatever you want."

"You mean whatever _you_ want me to wear."

"Well, that too." Sara grinned happily. "You look so good! And no one is going to know the dress is on backwards. There's no tag and it seriously looks like it was made to be worn like that. Made to be worn by you!"

If Felicity was being honest, she didn't mind the fact that the dress was on backwards. Sara was right, no one would be able to tell the difference, and normally she would be quite pleased if a dress dipped lower in the back than in the front. But _normally_ her front was covered in its entirety.

The expanse of skin somehow seemed much larger when it was being shown on her front instead of her back. It wrapped around her chest, making a bra virtually impossible (but also unnecessary, she supposed) and the bottom of the triangle ended just above her belly button. Coupled with the modest scoop neck and the cap sleeves, it wasn't a bad look. Not to mention, compared to what she had seen other girls wear at Verdant, the dress was downright demure. But still, Felicity felt naked in a way she wasn't used to and she turned pleading eyes on Sara.

"I look like a tramp."

"If you're a tramp, what am I?" Sara spun around, showing off a toned body and her tiny ensemble of a white tube top and matching high-waisted white skirt.

"Perfect," Felicity grumbled, looking at herself in the mirror again. It wasn't that bad, she decided, and her new exercise regimen must have been working more than she noticed, because she looked super skinny, with her hip bones almost jutting out. She didn't take pride in that so much as filed it away for later, justifying her extra double Big Belly order that she knew would come.

She slipped on her bright pink pumps that matched her lipstick, her own little 'middle finger' to the mere concept of a black and white party. She had no doubt that she would hear an earful from Thea later, party planner extraordinaire, but she felt much more like herself with a little pop of color. That, and they weren't in the Hamptons. Black and white parties felt a little too over the top for her, even if it was for something as spectacular as Oliver's birthday.

"You ready?"

"Sure," she said, grabbing her clutch and phone. "Do you think we could stop so I could check on a few of my searches before the party?"

Sara barked out a laugh. "No, Felicity, you may not work on your night off. We are entering the club through the front entrance like normal people tonight!"

"Normal people who fight crime in their spare time?" Felicity deadpanned.

"_Exactly._"

* * *

Felicity didn't feel particularly normal as her and Sara bypassed the line to Verdant, filled with people clutching party invitations and hopefuls that weren't, just trying desperately to get in to the party of the year. The bouncers simply nodded to both of them, moving the velvet rope (_was that really necessary? _Felicity wondered) and letting them in to the club.

Bass pounded around them and Sara led her by the hand to the bar, instantly ordering herself a whiskey neat and Felicity a fruity vodka tonic. They were served instantly - again, not normal by Felicity's standards, although her life had certainly taken a turn past normal some time ago - and she turned to survey the party that was already in full swing around them.

Writhing bodies swarmed the dance floor and she briefly wondered if Oliver really knew all of the people in attendance. Maybe in a different life, but now, she doubted it.

She heard Sara greet Thea to her left and turned to thank the girl for throwing such a lavish party for Oliver.

"Why _hello_ sexy ladies!" Thea was beautiful in a black and white geometric patterned shift dress and had a clear drink in her hand that Felicity sincerely doubted was water. She watched as Thea's eyes went to her shoes and back up again, her lips pursed. "You know what, I'm not even going to say anything. Because you're here, and that's all Ollie wanted for his birthday and I'm not even going to be mad that you broke my very strict dress code."

"What is all I wanted, Speedy?"

Oliver appeared behind Felicity, radiating heat into her back. How was one man so hot all the time, she pondered. Not _hot_ hot, not that he wasn't, because he clearly was, and he knew it too, but he wasn't one of those guys that used it to his advantage. Well, only when he had to, for a job or Arrow business or something, but that was for the greater good she figured, and wasn't strictly taking advantage, although he could easily take advantage of _her_ if he wanted to and it wouldn't be taking advantage if she wanted it too, right?

Lost in thought, she almost missed Thea's response.

"Look who came and broke the dress code!"

Felicity turned to look at Oliver, smiling guiltily, and she couldn't help but notice the way his eyes cut directly to the large triangle of bare skin on her front. The skin around his eyes became somewhat pinched, although his expression remained largely unchanged. His eyes drifted to Sara, who smiled benignly.

"This is how you fixed her dress problem?"

"Isn't it perfect?"

"It's horrible." Felicity acknowledged, her wide eyes meeting Oliver's. "Does it look that bad?"

"You look wonderful," he breathed, "even if you are breaking the rules." He nodded to her choice in footwear.

"I'm a rebel."

"She's a badass!" Sara interjected.

"Speaking of," Oliver's hand slid around to the back of her dress, his hand lightly resting atop where she knew her bruise was. "How are you feeling?"

"Perfectly fine. Can't even feel it."

"How many of those have you had?"

"Just the one! Less than Thea," she muttered quietly, keeping him apprised of his little sister.

Oliver glanced at Thea and then found Roy standing behind her. The boy instantly held up a bottle of water, his hands raised in 'what can you do?' gesture. Oliver acknowledged him with a nod, well aware that in a case like this it was much easier just to watch and corral Speedy versus trying to get her to actually not drink. He trusted Roy enough to not drink that night, well aware of his feelings towards Thea, and let himself relax slightly.

Felicity noticed him looking towards the VIP section, a much quieter area that overlooked the dance floor and took pity on him.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Sara coughed into her drink and Thea's mouth dropped open at her audacity. "Wait! No, not _out_ of here. It's your party. We should stay here! And not that I was coming on to you, because I wasn't! But I was just suggesting we go someplace a little more quiet which okay does not sound any better at all and oh my god, why am I still speaking?"

Oliver didn't even try to hide the slow smile that spread across his face at her words. He shook his head slightly at her before taking her elbow and guiding her to the VIP area gently, mindful to protect her back from any stray dance moves. He made a motion that brought bottles of nice - like, _really_ nice - champagne to the table and Felicity delighted in the fact that it looked like LO was there for the night. It was his birthday party, after all. He deserved it.

* * *

It was past 11 a.m. when the sun crept past her curtains and blinded her into consciousness. She gasped when she saw the clock; she had been trying desperately to catch up on sleep for months now and as much as she knew her body needed it, she was still irrationally angry with herself for sleeping so long. But when she moved to get up, a pounding in her head put her right back down in bed again.

She had set out aspirin and a bottle of water next to her bed before she had even left the previous night and took advantage of it instantly. She winced as she swallowed the pills down. This was probably the fourth time in the past couple of months that she woke up with a sore throat after drinking at Verdant, and she was starting to think that either she was allergic to whatever drinks Sara shoved in her hands or that maybe Thea was skimping on the dishwashing. No one else ever got sick and it passed pretty quickly, so she assumed it was her body's way of telling her to get more sleep and build up her immune system. Despite knowing she needed to get to the lair and run some diagnostics (they had set up some motion sensor cameras around criminal hot spots and last night had been a test to see if the city could actually still remain standing if Team Arrow tried to have fun for a night), she couldn't help but think that maybe she should listen to her body. She set an alarm on her phone for an hour later and let her eyes close. Just a little nap to help her get through this hangover.

* * *

It was dark when Felicity woke up later, and she swore loudly to her bedroom. Her alarm had never failed her before; she had wrote an app that made her do a few basic coding exercises in order to get it to shut off. It was enough to wake her brain up and keep from going back to bed most of the time, but as her phone lay silent beside her, she figured she must not have set it right. Dragging herself out of bed, she swayed a little on her feet, holding on to the wall to steady herself.

Remembering she hadn't eaten anything all day, she turned her anger on Past Felicity; she remembered water and aspirin, why couldn't she have left herself a banana?

Forty minutes later and one quick, cold shower to ensure that she would stay up (although after that much sleep, she doubted she would get any shut eye that night) and Felicity was rushing down the stairs in to the basement of Verdant.

"Sorry!" She was apologizing before she even made it down the staircase completely. "I can't believe I slept that long but I woke up and my throat hurt and I think maybe I'm coming down with something and I hope not because I really can't afford to be sick right now and oh my god what if I got you sick, Oliver? Not that we did anything that would cause you to get sick but I think I drank out of your glass last night a few times - I'm not saying that we made out or anything although last night does get a little blurry for me towards the end but I am pretty sure I would have remembered something like that. But you can't get sick, the vigilante _cannot_ get sick because that would not be intimidating at all. You can't have a coughing fit and stick someone with an arrow at the same time!"

She hadn't stopped talking _or_ looked up as she turned on all of her monitors and brought up the tests that she would need to be running.

"Hello, Felicity." Oliver's voice was more than a little amused with her as he sat on top of a nearby desk, on his own laptop doing, well, she hoped it was a Google search because he was kind of hopeless after that. "How are you today?"

A hand went up to her throat, the soreness still lingering. "I've been better," she said slowly, taking stock of the empty lair. "Where is everyone?"

"Night off, which you would know if you had read my text." He sounded bemused with her current flustered state.

"Me and my phone are in a _serious_ fight today," Felicity grumbled, pulling out the offending piece of technology and punching in her password. Sure enough, Oliver's texts were there, including one from Dig, two from Sara, and surprisingly enough, _three_ from Thea, but the first two were pretty incoherent, sent at 3am.

"So how are you feeling?"

The innocuous question surprised her, but she tried to school her expression to not give anything away. Not about to look a gift horse, or in this case, a small-talking Oliver, in the mouth, Felicity flopped down in her chair and spun to look at him.

"Not excellent, as you could have guessed."

"You look tired," he noted.

Felicity's jaw dropped. "Did you just tell me I look like crap, Oliver Queen?"

"_No_, I said you look tired. Two very different things."

"Not when you're talking to a female, it's not! I swear, how did you ever get as many girls as you did when you don't even know the basics of insulting them?"

"Must be my winning smile."

"You should send your orthodontist a gift basket," she tossed back, an unrepentant grin on her face. They sat like that for a beat too long, Felicity's smile bright and sparkling and Oliver looking like he was trying very hard to not smile. The moment was broken as she swallowed and her hand again instinctively went up to her throat.

Oliver got up swiftly, crossing the room to her desk. She clapped her hands over her mouth and nose as she realized he wasn't stopping.

"I can't get you sick!" Her words were muffled under her hands and Oliver just shook his head as he reached around her and turned off her monitors.

"Go home, Felicity. Nothing is happening on a Sunday night, I promise you. Get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow at the office, okay?" He leaned in and gently pried her hands away from her mouth. "Besides, you made me dance with you...what, three times last night? I think if I'm going to get sick from you, it'll happen regardless."

"Oh god, I really did make you do that, didn't I?" She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering vague details of the night before.

"Maybe 'made' isn't the right word for it." One eye opened at that, slowly followed by the other as she realized Oliver was doing what other people would consider flirting. They shared a look, the same look they always shared that spoke of caring and understanding and want before Oliver pulled back, nodding towards the door. "Get outta here."

* * *

She hadn't expected to get any sleep that night but when she got home, she fell asleep on the couch, right in the middle of an episode of Orphan Black. That alone was a true testament to how tired she must have been.

She woke up feeling much better; the soreness in her throat was gone, she felt less achy all over, and her head was clear. Which was why she was at a loss when on Thursday, she woke up feeling like she got hit by a mack truck.

"You look...like maybe you didn't get a lot of sleep," Oliver commented carefully when she got to the office that morning.

"Nice try, it's still offensive," she told him grumpily. "But if it helps, I'm aware that I look like crap today, so it doesn't really matter."

She had foregone her normal tight dress in favor of a loose maxi dress that was probably too casual for someone in her position, but she knew that Oliver wouldn't say anything. Her heels were replaced by plain flats and her ponytail was, by Felicity standards, askew.

"If you feel sick, Felicity, maybe you should go home?" Oliver knew better than to command her to do anything, it was much better to simply suggest it and let her come to her own decision.

Diggle, of course, didn't operate by the same set of rules.

"Felicity," he sucked in a low breath as he walked off the elevators towards her desk. "Go home, you look like you're fighting something."

She glared from her seat behind her desk but didn't argue with him, instead whipping towards Oliver.

"Why didn't you get sick?" She asked accusingly. "And if you dare try and tell me that you get more sleep than I do, I will lock you out of every computer you own, Oliver Queen."

He wisely retreated and Dig gave Felicity a wide berth as she proclaimed that she was staying at work because she _was not that sick_.

She made it to 3 p.m.

"Go home, rest, eat some soup, relax."

"I don't want to," she said stubbornly even as she was gathering up her supplies. She had developed a slight fever around lunch and had finally conceded that her body's pathetic immune system had lost this round.

"You will survive not working a 16 hour work day for once, I think."

"Yeah, but will _you_ survive?" There was an element of truth and heaviness to her question.

Oliver reached out and put his hands on her shoulders and Felicity would _swear_ it was the fever that sent the sudden chill down her spine.

"We have nothing dangerous on the books, I promise you. Just patrolling and training. That's it."

"And you promise that Sara can work the comms? She remembers how?"

"I am sure of it." Oliver sighed. "Would it make you feel better if I said I promise to call you if we need your help with anything?"

"Yes!"

"Too bad. I won't. Now do not return to this office until next Monday, do you hear me? I'll stop by tomorrow after work and check in on you."

"I hate this."

Oliver's mouth twitched. "I hadn't noticed."

"I hate you."

"_Goodbye_, Felicity." His lips had transformed to a smirk as he watched Dig herd Felicity to the elevator, her protests still carrying down the hallway. _That girl_, he thought fondly, before resigning himself to finishing the week off with boring board meetings and no one to make him smile.


	3. Walking Ghost Phase

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed and followed and favorited! I'm absolutely delighted that any of you take the time out of your day to read my stuff, let alone review it. There are still a few more chapters to go before Oliver and company find out, but I hope that you don't think all the build-up drags. I really love writing these characters.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow.**

* * *

"Didn't we do this last week?" Oliver wondered aloud, not expecting anyone to really answer. "Go home, Felicity."

"I feel fine."

It was Sunday night in the lair and Felicity was studiously ignoring Oliver and the others who were casting her dubious glances and focused on deleting footage from Oliver's latest vigilante antics.

"You still have a fever," Oliver argued.

"It comes and goes. I feel _fine_." Which was true to some extent, she reasoned. This fever thing was a real bitch though, and she woke up with cold sweats multiple times per night in the last few days.

"Maybe you're in the walking ghost phase," Roy suggested. At Felicity's confused look, he continued. "You know, like after Chernobyl when everyone got all that radiation and got pretty sick but then they felt fine before all just dropping dead."

"You think I have extreme radiation poisoning?" Felicity was proud of herself for not letting hysteria creep into her voice.

"No, he doesn't," Sara cut in, slapping Roy in the back of the head. "And why do you even know that?"

"I read!" Roy defended, rubbing his head gingerly. "You probably don't have it."

"You _definitely_ don't have radiation poisoning," Oliver assured her, talking over Roy. "I put up dosimeters all over the lair when I first started using it. We would know if you had encountered anything more than an X-ray, I promise."

"Well that's good to know, but I still feel fine."

Roy coughed and it sounded suspiciously like _Chernobyl_, but the group collectively ignored him.

"Guys, really, I am perfectly fi…" Felicity stood up and watched as the world wobbled around her. "Whoa."

"That's it, I'm taking you home." Oliver stood abruptly, his bow clattering to the ground as he steadied her.

"I'll take her," Sara volunteered, not on Felicity's side any longer. Oliver looked like he was going to protest, but her soft voice continued. "I have to meet Nyssa at the docks later anyways."

Sara was going to be leaving them for another few months for League of Assassins business, but she promised that Starling City was her home now, and she would return. Knowing that this would be the last time the two women saw each other for a while convinced Oliver to tamp down his protective instincts. He was happy with the friendship that had developed between two of the most important women in his life and knew that Felicity would want to say her goodbye to her in private anyways.

"Okay, but you're going to the doctor tomorrow, okay Felicity?"

"Call me if you need a ride," Dig spoke up. "Oliver can handle himself for a few hours."

"That will not be necessary. But I will go to the doctor tomorrow and get some antibiotics or whatever and be right as rain." She winced. "Pretend I didn't say that bit. I've never said that phrase before in my life, I promise. You," she pointed at Oliver. "You will now have to go through all this footage and flag any cameos you or Roy make. I'll take care of it tomorrow night. And don't touch my chair!"

* * *

Felicity passed out after a tearful (on her part, of course) goodbye with Sara and another promise that she would go to the doctor the next day. She woke up early, making sure to schedule her appointment for the first open slot they had that morning so that she could go to work in the afternoon.

With that in mind, she hurried to the doctor's, feeling mostly fine but she couldn't deny that she woke up a few times with the sweats again. She would feel better once she had something to help her system fight off whatever vicious virus she had, not to mention she knew that the rest of Team Arrow would feel better knowing that she had gone to the doctor at all.

"Open up and say 'ahhh.'"

"Ahhhhhh." Felicity felt a little ridiculous given the actual sick people that were in the waiting room, all in various stages of something that looked to be much worse than what she was dealing with.

"Your lymph nodes are pretty swollen, so you're definitely fighting something, but since they don't hurt, it's probably through your system at this point," Dr. Markowitz told her. The kindly old man with a subtle southern twang had been her physician since she had came to Starling and luckily this was her first visit outside of annual appointments. "Do you mind untucking your shirt so I can hear your lungs?"

She pulled the light pink button up out of her pencil skirt, and dangled her legs off the bed she was perched on. Something about being at the doctor's always made her feel like she was ten years old again, getting her arm set after falling out of a tree. Well, that's what her mom thought she had been doing anyways. In reality, she had been climbing her roof trying to readjust their antenna so that she could get better reception for the TV she had just re-built for herself. Other than that, she had been blissfully ignorant of most medical procedures. Until she started working with Oliver, of course.

"Woo-wee, how long have you had that bruise on your back, Miss Smoak?"

She silently cursed, forgetting that it isn't always easy to play off injuries to actual doctors. "Oh, just about a week or so. I've been doing...Krav Maga." She had no idea why those words were the ones out of her mouth, but she couldn't take them back now. She almost laughed aloud at the look on Oliver's face if he heard her spouting off about taking _Israeli martial arts_ _lessons_.

"Hmm." She knew he probably didn't believe her. She might be a little more lean and defined than she had been at her last appointment, but there wasn't a lot about her that screamed 'martial arts extraordinaire.'

He straightened up behind her, allowing her to tuck her shirt back in before standing before her.

"Lungs sound okay, possibly a little fluid build up but nothing that is too out of the ordinary with you having been ill recently. You're not the first person to get sick here." He turned around and muttered something that Felicity could've _sworn_ sounded like 'walking ghost phase.'

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said it must be all those cold days. Really wreaks havoc with the immune system." Felicity let out a huge breath. She was definitely losing it. "Now, I know you're not going to like this, but…"

"You're going to have to draw blood, aren't you?" She sighed. She had anticipated this, she really had, but that didn't mean that she was looking forward to it. She was pretty sure she had a note in her file that mentioned her needle phobia (belonephobia, as she had discovered in an effort to educate herself about her irrational fear) and she usually avoided needles at all costs. The doctor's office accommodated her when they could, only drawing blood when it was absolutely necessary, but she knew she couldn't wiggle her way out of this one. Besides, she was apparently a Krav Maga master. She was supposed to be used to a little pain.

"I'll take a few vials, and assuming nothing changes in your health, you won't have to give any blood at your annual appointment in three months, how does that sound?"

It sounded awful to Felicity, but she nodded anyways, already looking away as he rolled up her sleeve. She wasn't afraid of pain (she didn't like it by any means, but she didn't fear it) but something about needles - they just irked her. She had always been a little wary about them, but ever since everything with The Count, she knew her fear had gotten somewhat out of control. Knowing that she would hyperventilate if she saw the actual needle or syringe, she squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to jerk her arm away at the cold alcohol pad that swept over the inside of her arm.

It was over as quick as it had began and the next time she looked, Dr. Markowitz was pressing a bandaid over the gauze pad on her arm, and had vials of gross looking blood next to him. He excused himself for a moment, leaving her alone in the sterile room, feet still dangling off the edge of the bed.

She checked her e-mails for a few minutes before he came back in, still smiling that genial smile.

"We're going to run a full CDC on you, so you don't have to worry about that in a few months. But I did do a preliminary test, much like the ones they do before people donate blood." Like Felicity had ever done that, hah. "And it does indicate that you're almost critically anemic."

"Like a pregnant person?" That was the only thing her mind was connecting to anemia.

"I thought you said that there wasn't a chance you could be pregnant?" The doctor asked as he went to look through her paperwork to verify that.

"No, no! There isn't. Trust me, there isn't. No possible way. If I am pregnant, it is in a very 'immaculate conception' kind of way. I mean, not that Jews believe in immaculate conception. Not that I'm even very Jewish anymore; I respect my faith and all that but it was kind of just a thing that I was brought up in, it isn't really something I practice anymore…"

"Well, uh. Okay then, Miss Smoak. Anemia can relate to a host of other things, not just pregnancy. The most common kind, that is the one associated with pregnancy that I believe you are thinking of, is iron-deficiency anemia. Your anemia would account for a lot of your symptoms, actually: the paleness, dizziness, fatigue, even that bruise not healing on your back."

She hadn't looked at the bruise on her back since last week, but she noted that she should check it out again soon.

"So all I need to do is eat a steak and I'm good?"

He chuckled. "A steak certainly would not hurt. I'll know more once I get your test results back but it isn't necessarily a cause for concern at this point. We'll run this and get back to you in a few days with the results. In the meantime, I do hope you feel better. Don't forget to grab a cookie and a juice on your way out, okay?"

"Sure. Thanks, Dr. Markowitz."

Feeling better than she had in a while, she skipped out of the office armed with apple juice and a chocolate chip cookie that she would feel no guilt in eating at 10 a.m. Doctor's orders, after all.

* * *

"Everything okay at the doctor's?"

Oliver had hung up the phone (Felicity sincerely hoped he had managed to say goodbye to whoever was the unfortunate person on the other end of the line) the second he saw her get off the elevator. He met her at her desk, helping her take off her coat and hovering like a mother hen. It was a tricky combination of sweet and overbearing.

"Healthy as a horse. Well, a healthy horse. Why don't they ever include that caveat in that saying?"

"What did the doctor say?" As always, Oliver ignored her musings.

She shrugged. "Probably a virus, which means there's not much I can do. He did tell me I was anemic so I should eat a steak. I had to get blood drawn which means yay cookies and juice but boo for needles being jabbed into my arm. Probably going to get a huge bruise on my elbow now, considering my luck."

Oliver's thumb ghosted over the bump in her sleeve where the gauze pad was taped to the inside of her elbow, but she noted that he looked much more calm after hearing her report from the doctor.

A _ding!_ from the elevator and familiar footfalls told Oliver that Dig had arrived behind her.

"What's the verdict?"

"Healthy as a horse," Oliver repeated with a small smile on his face, his back still to Dig. Felicity cleared her throat. "A healthy horse," he amended as he turned to see Dig.

She had no idea why she was surprised when a heavy takeout box was dropped onto her desk at lunch. Steak and a baked potato. Of course.

* * *

"I would get a shot off if Dig's big head wasn't in my way," Roy joked over the comms later that night. Felicity was tired but not out of commission entirely and was happy to be back in the lair, monitoring the comms herself.

The men were actually on their way back from a routine surveillance gig, checking to verify that when they had stopped the human trafficking ring the week before that there weren't any other interested parties looking to pick up where the others left off. They had stumbled across a band of common street thugs wreaking havoc in the Glades and decided to intervene. Since they were clearly more skilled, Felicity couldn't help but note that they were using this as a sort of a de facto training exercise. And they were enjoying it.

"Dig, move your big head," Oliver commanded in his gruff voice, but she could still sense a smile there. "Arsenal, try the arrow with the ropes, see if you can make it work for you this time. Elbows tight."

Felicity was enjoying just listening to them, always a fan of when they worked together as a well-oiled machine. Her personal phone on the desk next to her started to buzz and while she usually ignored her calls while on "duty," the number looked familiar to her. A quick search while it was still ringing told her it was her doctor's office.

"Guys, my mom is calling, can I put you on mute and take it or do you need me to mediate this?" She wasn't sure why she said it was her mom but she knew that if she said it was her doctor, Oliver would probably want to take the call himself.

"My big head thinks we'll be okay."

She made a noise of assent and quickly muted the comms, answering her phone right before her voicemail picked up.

"Hello?"

"Ah, hello, Miss Smoak?"

"Doctor Markowitz?" She thought for a second that her blood results might be in already, but it had to be too soon for that. She was at a loss as to why her _doctor_ would be calling her though, and at 8:30 p.m. Didn't nurses usually give reminder calls, or even automated message machines?

"Yes, hello. Is now a good time for you?"

"Well, sure. Is everything okay? Don't tell me I need to come back and give more blood," she joked.

"Actually, that _is_ what I am calling about. There were some abnormalities with the blood you gave us today."

"In addition to the not-being-pregnant anemia thing, you mean?" She could've sworn she heard him smile over the phone.

"Yes, it would seem so. There are a few more tests I want to run on you, are you available tomorrow?"

"_Tomorrow_?" That seemed awfully soon to her, but maybe they had messed up with her original blood that had been drawn. But at the same time, she had _fought_ to get an appointment in with him that morning, she didn't think that he would be free the next day as well.

"I think tomorrow would be best for this."

"What time? How long? It's a pretty busy work week for me, unfortunately." Not entirely true, but she didn't want to waste her day at the doctor's office, especially since she had already taken time off the week prior.

"I would feel better if I could see you first thing tomorrow morning. It might take a few hours, but we could meet at Starling General and whip these tests out as quick as possible."

Still slightly confused but now convinced that he had messed up her blood tests and clearly didn't want to get in trouble for it, she was vaguely aware of her agreeing to meet the doctor the next morning. She hung up her phone and clicked the comms back on, only to be met with silence. Not wanting to interrupt them if they were in the middle of something much more dire, she remained silent, mulling over her doctor's words.

Hours of tests and at the hospital? This did not sound like her idea of a good day. Any warm, fluffy feelings she had felt for the doctor for trying to get her out of any unnecessary blood being drawn dissipated instantly; it was now clear that she was going to have to get even more taken.

She yawned again and stretched her arms over her head when a thought occurred to her. _Super tired. Swollen lymph nodes. Sore throat_. She knew these symptoms. Her college roommate was just getting over it when they came back from winter break one year. She probably had freakin' mono.

She did a quick google search for mono symptoms and groaned when they matched up with hers, right down to the night sweats. She didn't know for sure though and she wasn't going to get everyone worried for nothing. Her roommate told her that she had been out of commission for _weeks_ when she had been diagnosed. That was not something that she, Oliver, or Team Arrow could afford. The more reading she did, the more convinced she was. Finally she heard the door to the lair creak open and the sounds of her friends traipsing down the stairs, the smell of pizza wafting towards her. She Xed out of the screen she had been looking at quickly and slid her comm out of her ear. They must have taken theirs out, too, which would account for the silence.

"Pizza delivery for one Blondie," Roy adopted a terrible fake Italian accent as he slid the pizzas down on the table.

"This is how I know you're the true heroes of Starling City," she said around a mouthful of cheese and peppers.

"How's your mom?" Oliver asked as he slipped out of his jacket, positioning it perfectly on the mannequin as he always did.

"What?"

"Your mom. She called. You answered. Any of this ringing a bell?"

She had been so lost in trying to plan for the worst case scenario of her being unable to help for a few weeks that she had honestly forgot that she told Oliver that it was her mom on the phone.

"Yes! My mom! Yeah, she is good. Very...mom-like."

"Everything okay?"

"...Yes." Felicity was not an excellent liar, least of all to Oliver, who seemed to have a knack for reading her, but when an idea struck her, she had to at least try. "She is...coming into town. Tomorrow. In the morning."

"To visit you?"

"Yes. No!" She couldn't chance Oliver wanting to see her, but it was such a perfect excuse to go to the doctor without causing a fuss. "She is coming in to town and _wants_ to see me, but it isn't to see me. She's just...passing through. For a few hours," she echoed Dr. Markowitz.

"Why don't you take the morning off and see her?"

"Even though I was late this morning?" She watched Oliver's face as he picked the olives off of his slice of pizza. She didn't know if he was on to her lie or not, but he seemed more focused on his food than on her.

"Sure." He looked up and flashed her one of his rarer, large smiles. "You're the worst sick person in the world, Felicity. My schedule for the week is down to the minute. Not to mention you typed up the minutes to a meeting that I don't even think you attended. I think Queen Consolidated will still be standing if you take another morning off."

They shared a smile at that and Felicity pushed away her guilt at lying to Oliver, instead trying to focus the conversation elsewhere.

"But what will Dig do without me?"

"Kick his ass, probably," Dig offered.

"Do you want to take minutes in my meeting, Dig? Really buck the stereotype of being my black driver?"

"I would pay money to see Dig in a boardroom meeting," Roy laughed.

"Is that a race thing?" Dig deadpanned.

"W-what? No, not at all, I just -"

"He's kidding," Felicity reassured him. She gobbled down a second piece of pizza and had to admit that she didn't feel all that sick. Walking ghost phase or not, she was starting to doubt whether she even had mono at all. She was probably just being paranoid.

* * *

It might've just been her imagination, but when she woke up the next morning, Felicity felt like even her night sweats hadn't been that bad. She was already on the mend and eager to get these stupid tests over with. She had been working with some figures in her brain last night and thought maybe she could revamp some of QC's or Team Arrow's security firewalls, but she needed to try them out in a test system first. In order to do that, she had to get to either one of her offices, and not the hospital. Tablet in hand, she readied herself for a boring morning of being poked and prodded needlessly.

Dr. Markowitz met her at the outpatient center in Starling General. She was fifteen minutes early and genuinely surprised that he had gotten there before her. He introduced her to his colleague, another older woman with a name she promptly forgot.

"Dr. Markowitz, is all this urgency really necessary? Was there something wrong with the blood that you drew yesterday?"

"The blood that was drawn yesterday was just a little concerning is all. Your numbers aren't really where we need them to be."

Numbers of what? Need them to be for what? For her to be healthy? For her to be alive? She didn't voice any of her questions, just looked between the two doctors, waiting for them to explain further. The woman spoke up when it became clear that Dr. Markowitz had dropped the ball.

"The preliminary numbers for your blood showed that you were _extremely_ anemic-"

"Oh, we knew that," Felicity interjected. "I totally had a steak for lunch yesterday."

"Be that as it may, your red count numbers were so low, a steak might not have fixed the problem. That, coupled with your very high white cell count, is cause for concern. The white blood cells might just mean that you're fighting an infection, but we won't know until we run more tests."

"Could the higher white cells also mean that I have mono?"

"It is a possibility, yes, but there are also other things we need to rule out as well."

Well, okay then. Felicity couldn't get a good read on either doctor to tell her if they thought she had mono. Doctor Markowitz cleared his throat.

"If you'll just follow Dr. Monroe, then we can get started. Either she or I will walk you through each procedure before it begins. I just need to go grab some paperwork for you, and we should be all set."

Dr. Monroe! Felicity repeated the name in her head as they walked to an exam room down the hall, but it must not have been as silent as she had hoped.

"What was that, dear?"

"Oh, nothing! I'm sorry. I was just - I'm usually better with names is all. Want to make sure I don't forget yours."

"It's no problem. I'm sure you must be a little nervous being here. Do you have anyone you want to call?"

"Nervous? No, I'm not really...should I be nervous? I just kind of thought it was a few tests to clear up the bloodwork. I'm not particularly nervous. If you think I am because of the talking, trust me, I do this all the time. It isn't really indicative of nerves, or of anything. I'm fine. Really."

The doctor gave her a sympathetic smile which, irony of all ironies, definitely made Felicity nervous.

"There's a gown just behind this curtain. You can feel free to change; you can keep your underwear on but you're going to need to take off your bra if it has an underwire and any jewelry in order to be X-Rayed."

Gowns? X-Rays? What was going on?


	4. Invaluable

**A/N: Thanks again for all the favorites and follows! Text messages are underlined, and I still don't own Arrow.**

* * *

Felicity made it about three hours in before she caved. She had already had what she estimated to be 50% of her blood taken, so she would later blame that as the reasoning behind her low self-control. The fact of the matter was that she _was_ nervous now, and she did what she always did when she got scared: she talked to Oliver.

She was waiting for an ultrasound of her neck (she didn't even know that was a _thing_) when she figured that even if he was in meetings, which she knew he was, just texting him would make her feel better.

Save me.

Simple, concise, and not technically a lie. She knew that if she had been with her mother, she would want him to do just that.

_Not enjoying this bonding time?_

Felicity glanced around the room. Bonding time, right. She had really bonded with the nurse, Georgia, who had spotted her reading celebrity gossip on her tablet and snuck away from her rounds to read about the reality stars in LA with her. She had even bonded with the needle in her arm that was actually _taped to her._ They had said that it would be easier to keep in if they needed to draw more blood, but she kept getting waves of nausea every time she looked at it.

That's one way of putting it. You should be paying attention to Hae Lin.

She knew he was in a meeting with the CFO of China who was in town this week and she wasn't sorry she was missing it.

_He keeps speaking Mandarin to his staff. It's really hard pretending I don't know they're calling me a 'pretentious white boy.'_

They hit the nail right on the head, didn't they?

He sent her back some Chinese characters that she was sure said exactly what he thought of her last comment, and she barked out a laugh.

"Wasn't sure you knew how to do that." Georgia poked her head in, teasing Felicity. She was definitely the nicest nurse Felicity had encountered during her stay. She was in her mid-twenties, if she had to guess, and had her bright red hair pulled back in a frizzy ponytail. She wore minimal makeup but still somehow looked like a model to Felicity with her perfect porcelain skin with a light smattering of freckles. She was definitely her lifeline.

"This isn't really the happiest place, if you know what I mean."

"Boy, do I. Here," she held out a small carton of something to Felicity. "You looked like you were bored with the water. Doctor Monroe said you can't eat anything yet, but she cleared this. It's a vanilla milkshake, essentially. For the cancer patients, they can keep it down and it helps them put on weight. Which you totally could stand to do."

"Must be all that Krav Maga," Felicity muttered as she shook the carton. She was more than a little hungry after being told last night that she couldn't eat in the morning and a vanilla shake sounded heavenly to her.

"You do Krav Maga?!" _Please don't let her practice it, please don't let her practice it!_ Felicity silently begged. The last thing she wanted was to have to lie her way out of that one. "That is so cool. I'm totally jealous."

Felicity could only smile helplessly at her.

"Think they'll let me bust out of this joint soon?"

Georgia bit her lip, flipping through Felicity's file that she pulled from the wall. "We're a bit understaffed today, so I wouldn't get your hopes up. You still have an ultrasound, a biopsy, and then it looks like a CAT scan, maybe."

"A biopsy?" Felicity almost spit her drink out. "Like, on me? Where? Will it leave a mark?"

If Georgia thought her questions were weird, her face didn't show it. She just read from her file before placing it back in the caddy on the wall. "Just a fine needle aspiration. Really easy, don't worry. It'll probably look more like a pimple than anything, if that helps. Nothing a band-aid can't cover. But hey, your doctors will tell you more when it comes time for it, so don't worry. I'm just telling you what I know, that's all."

She appreciated the girl's candor but she didn't feel much better after being armed with that information.

Might need more than the morning off. This is getting out of hand.

* * *

It was 2 p.m. by the time someone had let her know that she could put her clothes back on. Georgia's shift had ended over an hour before and her new nurse was not nearly as friendly or informative. She had undergone more procedures than she knew what to do with and the doctors were being fairly close-lipped about it. They explained everything that they did with meticulous precision, but anytime she asked what they _thought_ she had, they just told her that the tests would be more conclusive, and they didn't want to give her any false information. The logical side of Felicity appreciated that, but the irrational, emotional, cranky-because-she-just-spent-all-morning-at-the-hospital side of her was less impressed with their professionalism.

She was waiting by the check-out desk for the receptionist to come back and confirm her appointment for the next day, because apparently this was the gift that just kept giving, when a voice made her pause.

"Miss Smoak?"

A real smile blossomed over her face. She hadn't realized how much she had wanted to see a familiar face that day until she had.

"Hi Detective Lance!" He was in his off duty clothes, jeans and a flannel, and looked just as miserable as she felt in this place. "What are you doing here? You don't have to answer that. I don't know why I asked that. That is super personal and I should be embarrassed, which I am, but also I should be respectful and respect you and I should stop talking."

"Just getting the ol' heart checked up on," he said, giving his chest a light knock. His eyes drifted over her, cataloguing the band-aid on her neck where they had taken a biopsy of a swollen lymph node and the bandage that was wrapped around her elbow, where the needle-of-doom had been for hours. "Everything okay with you?"

"Right as rain!" She closed her eyes briefly. "I have _got_ to stop saying that."

"Miss Smoak?" The receptionist had returned, handing her a tiny appointment card. "You're all set for meeting Dr. Markowitz and Dr. Monroe here tomorrow at noon. It will probably take around forty five minutes, but they've asked for you to clear your afternoon. Have a good day."

Felicity shoved the card into her purse, not wanting to answer the unspoken question in Detective Lance's eyes.

"Anyways, I should...get back to work. It was nice seeing you, Detective."

"You too, Miss Smoak. I'll see you around."

She wasn't even sure if she responded to him as she rushed out of the hospital, eager to get away from everyone and everything there.

* * *

She got to work looking just as flustered as she felt. She opened the door to Oliver's office, about to let him know that she was there, when she realized that there were two Chinese employees sitting across from him at his desk. After an awkward apology, she backed out of the room and flopped down at her desk. It didn't matter that she was practically in a bed all morning - she was exhausted.

Oliver's meeting ended shortly after, she prayed not due to her interruption, and after he walked his guests to the elevator, he stopped at her desk.

"What are you doing here?"

"Working? And interrupting you apparently, which I'm _really_ sorry about, by the way."

"I don't care about that, Felicity, I just assumed you'd be with your mom all day. I didn't even think I'd see you tonight."

"Oh! No, I'm...I'm going to see her tomorrow." She hated the way her voice rose at the end, as if she was asking him a question. She really was a pathetic liar.

"Not tonight?"

"No…" Her eyes darted around the room, trying desperately to come up with a good reason as to why she could leave her mom alone in an unknown city and be available for vigilante-helping duty.

"Ah," Oliver said knowingly. "She has a date, doesn't she?"

"...Yes. Which is why we are...meeting up for lunch tomorrow. At noon. So she can tell me about the date. And then take me shopping." She had no idea what words were even coming out of her mouth at that point, she just hoped that Oliver believed her for one more day, until this whole mono thing was straightened out.

"Well, great, in that case, I need you to run some numbers for bringing a few Chinese ex-pats over here to help with the Applied Sciences division."

Grateful to have something to focus on that wasn't needles or the guilt that warred in her for both lying to Oliver and not talking to her mom in months, she dove in and pushed all other thoughts out of her head.

* * *

"See you tonight?" Oliver held out her raincoat for her to slip on the next afternoon as she packed up her tablet and laptop to head out for the doctor's.

"Definitely," she reassured. "And if you happen to have a nice bottle of red wine waiting for me, I think it would be really appreciated after this afternoon."

"It'll be _fine_. Tell your mom I said hello."

She couldn't decide if she was really impressed with her lying skills, or really concerned with Oliver's lie-detection skills. If the vigilante tasked with protecting her city couldn't see through her feeble excuses and thin stories, she wasn't sure what else he was missing that was right in front of him. Of course, he also was seemingly blissfully unaware of her feelings towards him, so maybe his obliviousness was working in her favor at all times.

She dropped her keys twice when she went to start her car and refused to think about what it meant that her hands were shaking. Dr. Markowitz had actually called her that morning, trying to get her to come in sooner, but she adamantly refused, insisting that noon was the earliest she could get there. She knew she could make up another terrible lie for Oliver, but the truth was that she didn't really _want_ to meet him any earlier. Meeting with him meant finding out whatever was wrong with her, and right then and there, she was perfectly content with not knowing. A definite first for her, where her curiosity didn't get the best of her, but this entire situation had her freaked out. Usually, when faced with a question that she didn't know the answer to, she did what she did best: hacked. She contemplated it briefly last night; she could easily hack the hospital's systems and find out some details that way. Hell, she could've googled all her procedures and symptoms and gleaned more information from her trusty pal the Internet. But she didn't. She just focused on Team Arrow and Roy's new love for all things radiation (she was pretty sure he broke one of Oliver's dosimeters last night) and she watched Oliver do the salmon ladder and she thought of absolutely nothing because there was nothing for her to think about. Ignorance really _was_ bliss.

So she ignored her shaking hands and any frustration she felt at there being _too little_ traffic. She ignored her sweaty palms and her body's refusal to pick up her feet as she walked into the hospital. She ignored her thick tongue as she informed reception that she was there. And she definitely ignored the shared look between Dr. Markowitz and Dr. Monroe as they led her back to not an exam room, but Dr. Monroe's office.

"Please, sit down Felicity." Dr. Monroe gestured to the chair across from the huge mahogany desk she situated herself behind. Dr. Markowitz slid into the chair beside her, but positioned it so that he could face both her and his colleague.

"Miss Smoak, Felicity," Dr. Markowitz began. "Your test results weren't - they weren't what we were hoping for. Your blood tests on Monday gave us an inkling, but the preliminary results from yesterday…"

"What?" She asked, eyes darting between the two doctors. "Is it mono?"

"I'm so sorry, dear," Dr. Monroe spoke up. "The tests yesterday confirm that you have a form of non-Hodgkin lymphoma."

Felicity felt her stomach and jaw drop in tandem. "_Cancer_?"

Whether intentional or not, there was not one part of Felicity's mind that had even entertained the idea that she might have something more serious than the stupid kissing disease. She knew she was being unrealistic by putting all of her eggs in one mono-shaped basket, but it had all just _fit_. All of her symptoms, all of her tests, all of it...and now she was blind-sided by this, in every single sense of the word. Despite her mouth's tendency to work overtime, she couldn't seem to formulate one damn word right then. Luckily, Dr. Markowitz picked up the slack.

"While we will need to run more tests to conclude what type of non-Hodgkin's it is, as there are many, many types, it is important for you to know that it one of the more treatable cancers. It responds very well to treatment, generally, but I can't give you more firm statistics until these tests are done. You'll undergo some more exams and procedures and that will help us stage it and figure out which cells are affected and how best to proceed with treatments."

"Oh, okay?"

She had no idea what to say to any of this. Her mind was racing but surprisingly, all her physical issues - the shaking, the sweaty palms, the racing heart - all of that had calmed. She felt numb, just completely unaware of her surroundings. She kept returning to the one question she couldn't answer, which was how in the _world_ was she going to tell Oliver this, when she felt like all the air in the room had been sucked out. She stood abruptly.

"I don't…I don't know what to say," she confessed.

"It's a lot of information to take in," Dr. Monroe placated her. "We know that, Felicity. But we do need to run these tests in order to gauge what we are working with. We can...we'd like to do them today."

That got an emotion out of Felicity, but not a great one. She whipped her head to look at the doctor.

"_Today_?"

Dr. Monroe nodded. "I know it seems sudden, but time is on our side with this if we've caught it early enough, which I suspect we have. None of the procedures are particularly invasive, and if we start right away, you might not even have to be admitted overnight."

"Admitted overnight?" She echoed. Yesterday they had told her to clear her afternoon, not to clear her entire life for the foreseeable future!

"It really is for the best," Dr. Markowitz agreed. "Getting treatment squared away is important right now, and this is the first step towards that."

She must have nodded because Dr. Monroe stood, clapping her hands together. "I'll go get some more paperwork for you to sign, and then we have some pamphlets that will be good for you to go over to better acquaint yourself with everything you're going through. After that, we'll give you some time so that maybe you could call someone to come be with you for this. David, I'll get the test orders started as well so all you have to do is sign off on it."

She left, and the silence that stretched between Felicity and her doctor was deafening.

"Will you be my doctor?" It seemed like such a benign, droll question to ask, but Felicity had been curious about this tag-team approach that they had been working with since it began. He shook his head.

"Unfortunately, no. My specialty was hematology, but I began working for a general practice just a few years ago. Dr. Monroe is consulting on this as a favor for me, but after the tests are complete, we'll do an official handoff to a specializing oncologist."

Another blank nod from Felicity.

"On Monday...did you know?" She had no idea how any of this worked, but she suspected he had to have had _some_ sort of idea for this to all happen so fast.

He smiled sadly. "I hoped I was wrong. This really is a worst case scenario, you have to understand. It could have been so many options, but...I suspected, yes. I have seen it present itself like this many times. You're a wonderful girl, Miss Smoak. I'm sorry."

There it was. She had no doubt she'd be hearing that a lot in the months to come, but somehow hearing it from a professional just made it sound so much worse. So final.

She felt so out of sorts that it was driving her crazy. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted to climb the walls, she wanted to bury herself in Oliver's shoulder and hold him until this all went away. But still she stood, unmoving, unblinking, unfeeling.

She signed forms on autopilot. She listened to them read her risks and potential side effects and all she could think was that these tests were supposed to be the _easy_ part. If she couldn't make it through these side effects, how was she ever going to survive the treatment phase? She nodded at the appropriate times and she might have even asked a few good, relevant questions, before they were standing up and heading back towards the waiting area and admissions.

"Rhonda here will be taking care of checking you in. We're gonna remain optimistic and just check you in under outpatient, and barring any complications, you should be able to go home tonight. These tests can take a little while to process, and there's no need to keep you here overnight already if it can be avoided."

Dr. Monroe's words bounced around Felicity's skull. 'Overnight already.' Because that was inevitable, right? She would be spending an inordinate amount of time here. She thought briefly about the amount of needles she was going to be forced to deal with and took it as a sign that she didn't even feel remotely nervous about it.

"Picture i.d. and insurance card please, ma'am."

She slipped her driver's license and insurance card on the counter before her eyes were drawn to the sliding doors that led to the outside.

"Is it okay if I just…" She gestured pathetically to the doors. "I need to make some calls, and I…"

Rhonda patted her hand and nodded. "I'll go ahead and start getting you checked in. You take all the time that you need."

Unwilling to stomach the look of pity in her eyes, Felicity stumbled towards the door, desperate for fresh air. She needed to escape, to have something, before she went back in there and had it all taken away from her.

The doors led her to a curved area for patients to be dropped off. She saw an ambulance idling a few yards down and headed the opposite direction.

She followed the sidewalk, hugging the wall and trying to make sense of what just happened. Except she couldn't make sense of it, because nothing about it made sense at all. She let herself get lost in her thoughts for a while, musing on life and death and how she never - not in a million years - could have anticipated this for herself.

Her phone started buzzing and she realized she had no idea what she was doing. Inside the building or outside of it. She went to take her phone out of her pocket when she spied the pamphlet that was still clutched in her hands. The same pamphlet that Dr. Monroe had insisted she take with her, calling it 'invaluable.'

_Invaluable my ass_, Felicity thought spitefully as she ripped it and threw it to the ground. Stupid pamphlet. Stupid words. 'So You Found Out You Have Cancer, What Now?' Isn't that the million dollar question? She doubted that the inside of a glossy, mass-produced pamphlet had the answer.

She wasn't even surprised when it started to rain. Her raincoat was inside, draped casually over the reception desk, along with her purse and tablet. She hoped Rhonda was keeping a good eye on it, but somehow she doubted it. But honestly, what kind of horrible person would steal from a hospital?

Her phone had silenced temporarily and she was thankful for the reprieve. She had no idea what she would say. She barely even knew how to keep breathing at that moment. She silently willed the rain to fall faster, harder, to somehow make it clean her, to wipe the cancer right off of her, to seep into her bones and renew her.

It didn't.

The sky opened up above her but she felt the same. She felt the cancer weighing on her like a heavy blanket that was only getting more and more waterlogged. Just when she thought her knees were going to give out, that she was going to collapse right there on the sidewalk outside of the damn hospital, she felt a warm, heavy hand on her forearm.


	5. If It's All The Same To You

**A/N: I was surprised by how many of you guessed correctly as to who it was beside her! Unfortunately, there is little Oliver in this chapter, but trust me, he more than makes up for it when he finds out. Not only that, but I've written a few different chapters of his perspective which I will keep in another story that I'll post once it intertwines with this one. We're getting there, I promise!**

**Thanks again for all the lovely reviews and follows and favorites. I'm glad that you guys are hanging in there for this story, especially when it isn't the happiest of topics. Hope everyone had a Happy St. Patrick's Day!**

* * *

Felicity looked up in surprise, half expecting to see Oliver standing next to her. He was always there for her when she needed it and lord knew she needed it right then. But she wasn't disappointed when she saw Detective Lance standing beside her, his eyes soft and curious.

"Are you okay?"

He was standing right beside her but still needed to raise his voice, the cacophony of rain ricocheting everywhere easily swallowing his words. For a brief moment, Felicity thought that perhaps he knew. Perhaps he had heard the same world-crushing words that she had. But when her eyes drifted down to the pamphlet that still lay at their feet (in two complete pieces, not even marred by the rain. The stupid pamphlet wasn't even fucking _biodegradable_?) and she saw his own eyes widen as he read it, she knew that he had been unaware. Someone else's day had just been ruined too.

"Oh. _Oh_." His grip on her arm tightened. "Let's get you inside, okay?"

He walked her back to the stupid sliding doors, ushering her to the side a bit so they weren't standing directly in a walkway. Before either one of them could say a word, Felicity's phone went off again, attracting the attention of everyone around them.

With no pamphlet in her hands, she quickly took the phone out of her pocket and silenced the ringer, staring at the phone in horror.

"It's him." She didn't know if Detective Lance assumed it was Oliver or The Hood, but he just nodded at her encouragingly.

"He's going to come down here if you don't answer it," he reminded her softly. "Tell him you're getting coffee with me."

"Hello?" Her voice was shaky even to her own ears. She might have fooled Oliver before, but there was no hiding that there was something wrong right then.

"Felicity? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied, her voice a bit stronger. "What's wrong with you?" She winced. "You know what I mean." Good to know that her diagnosis hadn't changed _everything_.

"Are you sure? I'm just calling because HR came up here looking for you, and they wouldn't tell me what it was about. It seemed weird so I thought you should know. What are you doing right now?" His voice was suspicious, and Felicity looked to the detective for encouragement. He nodded for her to continue.

"I'm just getting coffee actually with uh, Detective Lance."

"Really?" Oliver knew that the two of them had a working relationship that sometimes excluded him, but he didn't realize they were on a coffee-getting level. "Is your mom already gone?"

A quick glance at the clock on the wall told her that it was later than she thought, and she could get away with not being with her mom.

"Yeah, she left already. I hope it's okay that I'm-"

"No, don't worry about it, of course it's okay. Are you going to come by later?" She knew what he meant and while she might not have to be admitted overnight - which wasn't exactly a given at this point - she knew she wasn't going to be up to going to the lair tonight.

"What am I doing _later_?" She repeated louder, for Lance's benefit. She needed him to tell her what to say or else she was going to either lose it right there or come up with an even more convoluted story that she would regret later.

Detective Lance, to his credit, put it together fast. He saw her eyes dart towards the reception area where her coat and purse still sat, and he took in the eyes of the employee that was clearly waiting for her to return. He held out his hand for the phone.

"Give it to me."

"Uh, Detective Lance wants to talk to...you?" She still wasn't sure who he thought was on the phone and she prayed that Oliver was prepared to go into voice modulator mode if necessary.

"Hey, it's me." The tone of his voice quickly told Felicity that he thought he was talking to the Arrow. He might not like the Arrow, but he had come to respect him. He begrudgingly respected Oliver Queen, but usually went out of his way to pretend not to.

She could only hear his side of the conversation, which left her feeling more than a little agitated.

"Yeah, I uh - do you mind if I keep her this evening?" _Keep her?_

"No, no, she's fine, it's just, uh, it's a me-thing."

"She offered her services once as a surrogate daughter. I'm just taking her up on it is all. That ok?"

"Great. Yeah. Thanks." He held the phone out to Felicity, and the line was still open, but she couldn't help the look of pure gratitude that was plastered all over her face. Detective Lance was an exceptionally good man.

"Hi there," she spoke to Oliver again, feeling a little better about controlling the conversation.

"Is Lance okay? He sounds a little...shaken." _That makes two of us_, she thought sourly.

"Yeah, yeah, he's just…"

"Hey, I can relate to the healing properties of Felicity Smoak's presence when you're in a bad way," he told her softly.

"So you don't mind if I…?'

"No, of course not. I'm glad you're there for him, and I'm sure Sara would appreciate it too. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Bye."

She hung up and just looked at Detective Lance, unsure of where to start. Finally, she settled on simplicity.

"Thank you."

"No problem," he replied gruffly before nodding to her things still abandoned on the counter. "Let's go get you settled in and then we can see about ordering us up some really terrible hospital coffee."

"I'm uh, not sure if I'm allowed to have coffee before my...stuff."

"Well then you can sit and watch me suffer through a cup of some really terrible hospital coffee, how does that sound?"

"Sounds good."

* * *

It wasn't totally awkward, lying in a bed in nothing but a hospital gown, staring at a SCPD detective who was scowling pretty hard at a styrofoam cup of coffee, but it sure wasn't comfortable for Felicity.

It was a lot of 'hurry up and wait' at the hospital, which didn't surprise her in the least, so she felt pretty confident that her and Lance would have plenty of time to talk. She had just gotten a cannula placed in her nose and they had told her they'd be back in a moment to start up her IV, but that had been over ten minutes ago.

"Did you have another appointment at the hospital today?" Felicity broke the silence and the staring contest Lance was engaged in with his coffee.

"Ah, no." He had the good sense to look a little abashed at that. He must have heard her making her appointment the day before and taken the time to come see her. She didn't relish in the idea of being followed, but a part of her warmed at the thought of someone caring enough to do that.

"You couldn't have known all this," she motioned around the room, to the monitors and equipment set up everywhere, "was going to happen."

"Nah, but it's never a good thing when they want to see you the day after. They only do that to me after they find out that I've been eating more cheeseburgers than I should. Then they call me back and have a whole panel of doctors yell at me."

She smiled at his attempt to bring levity to the situation. It was much appreciated.

"I, uh...I didn't know all this was going to happen either."

"No?"

She tried to smile, to give a tiny shrug and play it off, but her voice cracked on the last word. "I don't feel sick."

Lance reached over and took her hand in his, and she surprised herself with how tightly she latched on to it.

"Sometimes you don't," he told her. "Sometimes you just don't."

She hadn't cried yet, but she knew it was coming, and she honestly didn't know if she wanted the detective to be there for it or not.

"You gonna tell him?" She knew he was referring to the Arrow.

"I don't know," she whispered. "These tests...they'll tell us more and I wouldn't want to tell him what's happening without all the information. So I guess I'll just wait and see."

He nodded, before clearing his throat. "You gonna tell Queen?"

The nonexistent dichotomy was almost too hilarious for her at that moment, and she let out a strangled laugh.

"He'll freak. And I don't know if I can handle that."

"Kid's lost a lot of people in his life," Lance acknowledged. "But he's not too bad of a guy to have around. Just keep that in mind." She nodded. "You uh, have any family you want me to call? I know you're not from around here, but…"

She shook her head and pursed her lips but offered no other information as a nurse finally entered and set about getting an IV into her hand. When she was finished, Dr. Markowitz came in, followed closely by Dr. Monroe and an orderly in scrubs.

"Glad to see you're not alone in this," Dr. Monroe smiled. "Are you Miss Smoak's father?"

An awkward chuckle tittered out of both of them, laughably similar given the circumstances, but the detective was the first to speak.

"Friend, actually. Just a friend."

"Okay then." The doctor didn't look the least put out by this. "Well, unfortunately, this is the boring part for the friend. Marcus is going to take you down to anesthesiology where you're going to be put under, and that's when they'll do the lumbar puncture and the bone marrow biopsy. Both procedures should only take about an hour total, which is the good news. You'll wake up after about an hour, depending on how you react to the anesthesia, and then you'll need to stay here for at least another two to three hours for recovery. You haven't eaten since the last time we spoke, correct?"

Felicity cast a forlorn look at her stomach but shook her head. She was starving.

"What do ah, what do these tests do?" Detective Lance asked timidly. Felicity felt another stirring in her heart for the man sitting next to her. He didn't need to do any of this - he didn't need to talk to Oliver, or stay here with her, or even take an interest in her tests, but he was, and it meant more to her than she actually expected.

"They are both pretty much designed to tell us the same thing, which is if and where the cancer has spread. The lumbar puncture will let us know if anything is in the brain or spinal fluid, or the central nervous system at all, and the bone biopsy will let us know if any cancer cells are in the bone marrow. Both aren't considered really invasive, and both tests are routinely done as outpatient procedures."

Lance nodded, absorbing the information.

"If neither of you have any other questions, Marcus here is going to go get you a wheelchair, and we will see you on the other side, Felicity!"

Left alone for a brief period, Felicity rushed to say the one thing that had been on her mind since she had run into him.

"You don't need to stay, Detective. I mean, if you have other things to do, or shifts or whatever, you can feel free to-"

"Nah, I think I'll stay here for a while, if it's all the same to you." He propped his feet up on the other chair in the room and reached for a magazine. "Besides, you are way too smart to be reading this trash. Someone's gotta protect you."

She grinned as Marcus returned with a wheelchair, helping her get in and still maintain her dignity with a hospital gown on.

"Thank you for taking up the mantle."

He gave her a two finger salute. "The SCPD way. I'll see you when you get back, kid."

* * *

She woke up slowly, and more than a little confused.

She was on her stomach, which was not her preferred way to sleep, with one hand tucked underneath her and the other lying limp beside her face. She wiggled her fingers a little but immediately regretted it after feeling the IV tug lightly. The hospital. The procedures. Right.

She didn't have her glasses on but she could still make out the figure to her right, a man hunched over a magazine but with his hand over his eyes. She couldn't tell if he was sleeping or just mulling over the dumb magazine he had been reading.

"Detective?" She croaked out.

His hand instantly dropped away from his face and the magazine was discarded to the side.

"Welcome back, Miss Smoak."

She used her free hand to wipe her eyes, frustrated when they still remained blurry. He quickly offered her the glasses on the table beside her, even helping to slide them on over her ears.

"What time is it?"

"Little past six. You were out for a little longer than they thought you'd be, but they said something about it being better for you to not move anyways, so...I should tell them you're up though."

Her head still felt foggy so she didn't even argue with him when he stepped out of the room. She was genuinely surprised he was still there. He must've read every magazine in the room by this point.

He returned quickly with Dr. Monroe and a nurse who quickly set about getting her vitals.

"How did it go?" She wasn't even sure what she was asking but it seemed like a pretty good opening statement. Her tongue felt heavy and her mouth was dry and the world was still just a _liiiiiittle_ fuzzy around the edges, but it was gradually becoming more and more in focus.

"It went well; no issues or problems came up. You reacted pretty strongly to the anesthesia but not adversely, so we will consider that a win at this point. You-"

"Can I move?" She knew only the rough details that they had told her about the procedures beforehand but she remembered seeing something that said you weren't supposed to move after a spinal tap or else you would die or something like that.

"You can move," she told her with a smile. "We ask that you remain lying for the next two hours until you are discharged, just to prevent a headache. Unfortunately, only on your front or back, not on your side, which may prove to be a little uncomfortable for the area of your bone marrow biopsy, which was done on the back of your left hip. So if you want to roll over, try to do so on your right side. We can get you an extra pillow to put underneath your hip if it's uncomfortable."

Felicity nodded, slowly shifting to her side. When a flare of white hot pain shot up her side, she couldn't stop the gasp of pain that escaped her mouth.

"_Other right, other right, other right_," she gasped out as she made to move the other way. She could tell that the pain was dulled by whatever medication was flowing through the IV, but that didn't make her look forward to the recovery at all.

Detective Lance stood as soon as she had gasped and helped her to roll over, holding her IV tubes away from her body to prevent them from getting tangled. He grabbed a pillow from the chair he had been resting his feet on and gently slid it underneath one side of her hips, and while she was dimly aware of a throb that pulsed beneath the surface of her hip, she had to admit that she felt better in this position.

Dr. Monroe gave her a litany of do's and don't's and things to keep track of during her recovery for the next few days, assuring her that it would just be sore but as long as she stuck to the rules, she would be be healed before she knew it.

Once the doctor took her leave, Felicity couldn't help but looking at Lance. His eyes were red-rimmed and her heart warred with emotions about that. She felt bad adding to his burden; the man had gone through enough in his life. But at the same time, she got the feeling that the detective liked spending time with her, and was actually glad to be there in some way. _She_ was certainly happy that she wasn't doing this alone.

"It's all happening so fast," she murmured, drawing his attention. "Before I came in today, I thought...I thought I had mono. I thought I was going to be out of commission for a few weeks and that was bad enough. And now I have a hole in my hip and needles everywhere and I just...I want it to slow down."

"But fast is good in this case, yeah? I mean, I don't have any experience with this, but...from what they told me and I read, fast is for the best. They seem to have caught it in time and this means that your treatment can start sooner, even though that doesn't seem like a walk in the park…"

"You got all that from reading US Weekly?" She joked, before spying a pile of pamphlets on the small table next to him.

"Figured if you were gonna destroy 'em, somebody might as well read them."

Again, she was at a loss for words.

"Thank you."

"If you're going to be thanking me every time I read a paragraph on this business then I think we're both going to be frustrated as hell," he grumbled, but the tips of his ears did turn pink. "Listen, now that you're awake, can we watch some TV? I didn't want to turn it on when you were sleeping."

"You mean when I was under anesthesia and completely unaware of what was happening in the world?" A small but genuine smile tilted her lips up. "Yeah, I guess we can watch TV now."

* * *

They passed the next few hours watching criminal procedure shows with Detective Lance pointing out all the flaws and inconsistencies. It was surprisingly enjoyable to Felicity, who usually preferred nerdier sci-fi shows, but she figured it was more fun due to the company than the actual content.

At around 8 p.m., she was informed that she could go home. The doctors had all told her that she needed to take Tylenol fairly regularly for both the pain and to regulate the low-grade fever that she now knew was due to cancer and they armed her to the teeth with free samples when she doubted aloud if she had any at home. Detective Lance rolled his eyes halfway through her offer to call herself a cab and herded her out the door as quickly as possible.

"I assume you will be going to work tomorrow?" He asked as he walked her to her door. Her steps were still stilted and awkward, due more to the threat of pain than any actual discomfort she was currently in.

"Yup." She popped the 'p' at the end, not even willing to consider calling out yet again.

"I'll pick you up around 7:30-"

"That's _really_ not necessary, Detective."

"You've got some other plan to get your car from the hospital that early in the morning?"

Well, crap. She had forgotten about that completely. Seeing the resignation on her face, he nodded resolutely.

"7:30 a.m., Miss Smoak. I'll see you then."

That night, she dreamed of arrows as syringes.

* * *

She felt better than she had expected the next morning. Her back was tender to the touch, but as long as she didn't sit down against anything too hard, it was manageable. She had been meaning to work on her posture lately anyways. Her hip was a little bit worse off, but again, nothing she couldn't handle. She just needed to remember to keep her steps short and light; if her gait became too long then her hip protested _loudly_.

Detective Lance greeted her bright and early at 7:30 with a cup of coffee waiting for her in the cup holder.

"Am I allowed to thank you for this?"

He let out an exaggerated sigh. "If you must."

He stopped her before she could get out of the car in the parking garage, her red mini waiting patiently for her. "Here," he thrust something in her hand.

It was the biggest bottle of Tylenol she had ever seen. Over 1,500 tablets inside. She looked at him to see if he was actually serious with it, but he was studiously avoiding her eyes.

"Keep this in your car, too." Next was a small black bag, fastened with velcro. Inside was a travel size bottle of Tylenol, a thermometer, and an ice pack that could be activated by crushing it. "Just in case, you know. Cops keep something like this on them at all times too. Just seemed like a good idea, what with all they were saying yesterday."

This man just kept surprising her. She bit her lip, nodding once.

"This is me not saying thank you for any of this. I'm not saying it really loudly."

"Get to work, kid."


	6. No Rush

**A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, even if it might not have the big reveal you're wanting. But trust me, it's coming! I'll update again probably tomorrow or Monday because even I am starting to get antsy about all that's coming which is ridiculous because I wrote it, but...**

**Anyways, I hope you like this! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I try to write back to all reviews so I'm sorry if I missed you or if you commented as a guest. I sincerely appreciate absolutely every word you all say to me. **

**Finally - I'm sorry if anyone feels like the medical part of this story takes up a bit too much compared to the human aspect. I really do cut a lot out actually because I don't want it to get too bogged down! But some of the more scientific stuff is important to how Felicity reacts and how she handles herself in this situation. Just letting you all know. Thanks again, and read on!**

* * *

Felicity was determined to not think about the 72 hours. She was particularly skilled in the art of avoidance and took this as a personal challenge for herself. If she could make it through one day without feeling like her world was collapsing, she could make it through another.

The doctors had told her that they probably would not be in contact with her today; her scans and biopsies were all being sent to specialists who would study them and come up with not only her official type of cancer but also a tentative treatment plan. They insisted that she could call with any questions she had, but she knew that she wasn't going to. She was going to steadfastly pretend that she was as healthy as a healthy horse.

"Felicity!" The smile on Oliver's face when he saw her made it more than easy to forget everything that had been weighing her down.

"Hi!"

They stared at each other for a beat too long, both happy to simply see each other. She hadn't realized how much she had missed him this past week.

"How uh...how is Lance?" He was grateful he had an actual question to ask her instead of just asking how she was. He knew she hated it when he hovered. Felicity smiled, thinking about the older man.

"He's doing really well. He just needed some time to...get his head around things."

"Well I guess he came to the right person. You can get your head around anything."

Hah.

"Speaking of - I know you didn't ask for it, but I ran the numbers for the Chinese ex-pats for a few other scenarios that you might want to consider. Just a few different lengths of time and if the project got extended, which visas might be the right fit. I'll print them out for you and get them to you in a few minutes if that's okay?"

"You're the worst at taking time off, you know that?" Oliver began to walk towards his desk, smirking over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" She called after him. "I'm the employee of the year?"

"You wish!"

She settled herself gingerly in her chair, still smiling at Oliver's antics. She let out a relieved sigh when she realized that the chair was curved in the back so that she could still rest her head against the back without actually having her spine touch anything.

"Welcome back."

Dig stood in front of her desk, almost causing her to jump, but she thought better of it at the last moment, remembering her hip.

"Good to be back."

His eyes were searching. "Everything alright?"

"Never better. What about you?" She took in his appearance and scrunched her nose. "Didn't you wear that yesterday?"

That sufficiently distracted him as he excused himself, tugging on his collar. "Barely even saw you yesterday," he grumbled under his breath.

She laughed aloud when she heard Oliver's first statement to him.

"Nice shirt."

She knew she couldn't ignore it forever, that it was going to rear its head sooner rather than later, but in that moment, Felicity was more than content to pretend that her own personal life didn't exist and enjoy the one in front of her.

* * *

"Oh, thank god," Roy exclaimed when he saw her coming down the stairs the to the lair. Steps were a bit more difficult for her to navigate and still look like there was nothing wrong, but she pretended to be taking in the lair with big eyes to justify the slow steps.

"It all seems to still be here," she said in mock awe. "And I was gone for more than one night! How is that even possible?"

"Magic," Roy assured her, before meeting her at the bottom of the stairs and wrapping her in a hug. She couldn't stop from tensing up when his arm brushed the sensitive skin at the bottom of her spine.

"You ok, Felicity?" Oliver was watching with patient eyes from across the room.

"Oh, yeah!" She stepped away from Roy, shoving his shoulder lightly. "Just habit from the bruise. Feels fine now though." She made a show of flopping into her chair by her desk, something she knew she would probably regret later.

"In that case...I need you to run some financials."

"I don't know if I'm happy you didn't touch my babies or if I'm frustrated that you were just going to wait for me to do it. Is it urgent?"

"Yes."

"No."

Oliver glared at Roy, clearly not wanting to rush Felicity.

"Do you two want to try that again, or…?"

"If you could run them, please." Oliver slid a post it in front of her with a name and a social security number.

"Franz Lloyd?" She read aloud. "How do you know which one is his first name and which is his last?" She typed his name in a few of her searches, dragging the windows to the screen all the way on the right. She utilized her others in running her typical firewall protections and any online mentions of the Arrow or Oliver Queen. Sometimes she needed to do damage control on his _own_ attempted damage control.

Oliver nodded to the training mats, stripping off his own shirt and momentarily distracting Felicity. She would blame this lapse in her lack of internal filter.

"He's a doctor at Starling General?"

Oliver turned around, halfway to the mats.

"Yeah, there's some pretty solid intel that he's stealing medicine from the hospital and selling it to the gangs. He doesn't make the meth, but he's giving them all the tools for it. Why? Do you know him?"

She shook her head.

"Maybe get a list of his patients too, if you can do that. Stealing is one option, but he could just as easily be prescribing them to phony patients and getting them out that way. Besides, it'd be good to have a hack into Starling General if we ever need it. I don't think you've done that one yet." She must have nodded because he turned away, ready to start sparring with Roy.

Her fingers hesitated over the keyboard, a strange feeling coming over her. She didn't know the doctor, that much was true. She hadn't seen him at the hospital and he was an orthopedic surgeon, so there was no reason to think she would see him in the future. It was just that for a brief moment, she felt like her two worlds that she was so desperate to keep apart were colliding. It only took her a second to make a split decision to solidify those barriers.

She hacked into the hospital's mainframe, which was truly pathetic by any hacker's standards, and found her own records. Quickly and efficiently, she coded in some firewalls to divert any traffic that would lead others to her files. It would only work on those trying to come into the system from an outside source; her own doctors and anyone that was accessing hospital records from _within_ the hospital would have no trouble finding her all of her files and records, but it was a start.

"Everything all good?"

For the second time that day, Dig stood in front of her, his approach unnoticed, and this time she couldn't control the involuntary jerk her body gave at his sudden appearance. Masking her pain with a glare, she raised both eyebrows at him.

"What, are you a ninja today or something? Give a girl some warning!"

"I just walked down the stairs." Right, the stairs. The old, rickety, clanging stairs that alerted everyone to all entrances and exits. Those stairs. "You look-"

She pointed a finger at him accusingly. "I am _not_ tired, so don't you dare say that I look it!"

"I think you look nice, Blondie!" Roy called out before his feet were swept out from underneath him and he landed on his back, hard.

"Roy thinks I look nice."

"Suck up," Dig muttered.

"Did you change your clothes?" Felicity was eager to change the topic.

"Don't make me regret missing you here these past few days."

She grinned triumphantly, focusing back on her task. Cancer who?

* * *

"Will you be honest with me?"

It was almost 11 p.m. and Oliver had just sent Dig and Roy home after they had beat the streets, trying to find some more information on the doctor's meth supply chain. Felicity was packing up her things, trying to mentally calculate if it was time for more Tylenol or not. Her hip was doing a dull throb and her back ached, but she thought it was more from her strained posture all day than the actual injury.

"Yeah, of course," she replied instantly, almost forgetting that her last two weeks had been nothing but lies to Oliver.

"You didn't really see your mom this week, did you?"

"I-" She stopped herself from protesting, instead offering just a weak shrug.

"You were with Detective Lance, weren't you?"

Well, that was unexpected. Figuring it wasn't entirely a lie, she nodded sheepishly.

"It's okay. You don't have to lie to me about it, Felicity. I know that whatever's going on isn't yours to tell. But I have to know if he's okay. I know things with him and Laurel have been pretty strained lately, but I can get word to Sara-"

"No!" She cut him off. "That's not - that's not really necessary. That's not what he needs right now."

He nodded once. "Okay. I won't. I just wanted to let you know that I'll respect his - and your - privacy. No interference from Oliver Queen or the Arrow, I promise."

"Thank you." Her voice was small as she refused to think about the words coming out of his mouth. She almost broke when he continued.

"I just wanted you to know that whatever is going on with him, you don't need to shoulder it all yourself, okay? If it ever gets too much, he's not alone. And neither are you."

He gave her shoulder a soft, familiar squeeze, and she felt it all the way to her heart. She gathered up her bag, slinging it over her shoulder before calling out a hasty goodbye. She had to get out of there and fast. Ignoring the strain that suddenly seemed to be pulling her body in a million directions, she couldn't even remember the drive home. All she knew was that was sitting on her couch when the first tear over this entire ordeal fell. And she knew it wouldn't be the last.

* * *

"Refill?"

Felicity looked up to see Detective Lance standing over her, coffee mug in one hand. Her own mug was sitting virtually untouched in front of her, probably cold at this point.

"You following me, Detective?" She tried to narrow her eyes at him, but her words held no heat.

"You're a creature of habit, Miss Smoak."

That much was true. If she had more than a few minutes before getting to work, she would grab a cup of coffee and sit at the shop a few doors down from QC. If the detective hadn't been there before that morning, he didn't say. He just sat down in the seat across from her, nursing his own cup.

"How are you doing?"

"Pain's mostly subsided. Just kind of feels like my body is a big bruise."

He nodded. "And otherwise?"

She should've known she wasn't going to get away with a simple answer. The question had been anything but. She shrugged.

"I've got a meeting at the hospital at lunch. I scheduled Oliver for a two hour finance meeting. He's going to hate me."

"Nah, that's not true. Kid cares about you more than you think." He sipped his coffee out of the huge mug and Felicity had to smother a smile. She had never seen him drink coffee from anything other than styrofoam. He probably hated the overpriced lattes that they sold there. "You uh, need someone to go with you at lunch?"

Her eyes welled up at that. Ever since last night, it was like a switch had been flipped. She had cried for a long time on her couch, and then she had a good twenty minute jag in the shower that morning. She had hoped that it was out of her system by now, but that was clearly not the case.

"I should be good. Just a quick thing."

He nodded before standing and straightening up his jacket.

"Okay then. Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" The next day was Saturday and as far as she knew, Felicity had nothing planned except possibly more crying.

"Yep. Tomorrow. 9 a.m. Here. See you then."

Not even giving her a chance to protest, he exited the shop without looking back. She relaxed back into her chair, not even minding her back. Detective Lance was not what she had expected at all.

* * *

Oliver had grumbled and tried to talk his way out of the finance meeting, but the fact was that she had been pushing it off for a while anyways, and it just happened to coincide with her appointment that afternoon. The finance department hadn't been too keen on a lunch meeting either, but she just reassured them that it was the only time Oliver was available, and that the lunch that she ordered wouldn't go against their budget. White collar employees were predictable that way.

She snuck out easily enough, doing everything she could to mentally prepare herself for the diagnosis that awaited her. She had wanted to do research the night before, to look into the different types and stages and categories that she could possibly fall into, but her fingers refused to type. For the first time in her life, Felicity's curiosity, which could have been easily sated, was left unchecked.

She was beginning to hate Dr. Monroe's office. Nothing good ever came from it.

"The good news is that is it very common."

Felicity knew that just because something was _common_ didn't mean it was very treatable, and the fact that this was the good news did nothing to stop her stomach from doing flips inside of her.

"B-Cell lymphomas account for about 85% of non-Hodgkins lymphomas. Diffuse large B-cell lymphoma, which is what you have, makes up about one in every three cases. The bad news is that we prefer this to be localized, but instead we found cancer cells in both your bone marrow and we believe your spleen. The CAT scan indicated that you also have some swollen nodes in your chest cavity, which would explain your trouble breathing, as they are pressing against both your heart and lungs. Since the disease is so widespread, it is categorized as aggressive stage 4 non-Hodgkin lymphoma."

Aggressive.

Felicity had a basic memory of anatomy, although she always more interested in the anatomy of a computer versus her own, but she had still passed her biology classes with flying colors. Bits and pieces came back to her now, sentences like that the lymphatic system was the "highway of the body," and that lymph nodes connected virtually everything inside of her.

The word **aggressive** pushed her eighth grade bio notes out of her mind.

She vaguely remembered reading about the different stages in the pamphlets, but for the life of her, she couldn't recall anything about them.

"How many stages are there?" Her voice was hollow; she was already dreading the answer.

"Four, dear."

Oh, god.

"And uh, it's treatable?" _Please say it's treatable, please say its treatable_.

"Definitely. It is highly respondent to treatment and just because the word 'aggressive' is in it, does not mean that we are going to roll over for it, do you understand that? It just means that we are going to be just as aggressive in tackling it."

She knew what they wanted. She knew they wanted this to be the moment that she took a stand, gathered her courage, and proclaimed to them that she was a fighter, and that she would do whatever it takes. But she couldn't give that to them. She didn't _feel_ like a fighter. She felt like her hip and her back hurt and that was supposed to be the easy part. She felt like her life was spinning out of control and she had no say in any of it. She was supposed to be smart and funny and be living her dream right now and instead she was sitting across from a doctor behind one of the biggest desks she had ever seen, barely able to catch her breath.

"Okay," was all she managed.

"Now, because it's aggressive," Dr. Markowitz began beside her, nodding at Dr. Monroe to keep talking.

"Yes, because it _is_ so aggressive, there are a lot of things we need to discuss beforehand."

"Like treatment?"

"Even before that, actually. The treatment is a given. We've seen this before, we've beaten it before, and we know how to handle it. But before that, there are some other factors to consider."

"Like _what_?" She couldn't fathom there being anything else to discuss.

"The treatment that we will be administering you is invasive. And given your age, your health, a variety of other factors - it's our clinical duty to remind you of some fertility options."

"I-I don't even have a boyfriend." The words sounded dumb even to her as they spilled out of her mouth.

"Many women don't when they're about to go through treatment. Not being married does not mean that you can't harvest and freeze your eggs. It is increasingly common nowadays, and you are in the peak condition to do it. I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that the procedure is rarely covered under insurance, and it is a hefty price. However, payment plans are available and many women who take advantage of this have gone on record saying that they feel as if they made the right decision for their future. Of course, this is completely elective. You are under no pressure to do so."

"But if I don't - my...will I ever be able to? Children?"

"It is impossible for us to tell how your system will respond to the chemotherapy and radiation, Miss Smoak," Dr. Markowitz told her. "If we knew, we'd tell you. This is just a precautionary measure that we allow patients to explore. Going into menopause immediately after treatment _is_ a possibility."

Her hands were shaking. It was too much information and despite the awkward topic at hand, she found herself wishing she had taken Detective Lance up on his offer to join her. How was she supposed to drive after this? How was she supposed to function?

"We know that this is a lot to take in, Felicity. It is customary for us to set up an appointment with a fertility specialist as a consultation. They're open on Saturdays and we have you scheduled for 3 p.m. You don't have to go, and you certainly don't have to make a decision tomorrow; she is just going to sit with you and explain the options and the procedure and answer any questions you may have." She paused, trying to find the right words. "While there isn't a need for an answer tomorrow, you have to understand that your cancer _is_ aggressive, and starting treatment as early as possible will only better your chances against it. You will need to undergo a major surgery to remove the diseased nodes as well as your spleen, but that will have to come after any harvesting of eggs. The hormone therapy in order to freeze the most eggs can take between 4 and 6 weeks."

No rush.

But if she didn't make a decision soon, it could affect whether this cancer kills her or not. And this decision may or may not determine whether she could ever have kids in her lifetime.

No rush.

Right.


	7. Of Needles and Kangaroos

**A/N: Thank you so much for the overwhelming support! I hope you all like this chapter buuuuut it's not the one where Oliver finds out. That's coming next, I promise! This just shows the strain of keeping everything from Oliver and the others and how she is trying to navigate this sea of uncertainty when she really has no idea what she's doing. **

**Next chapter things get real!**

* * *

"Aggressive stage 4 non-Hodgkin lymphoma."

She slid the pamphlet across the table to the detective. It was the first time she had ever said those words out loud. They sounded casual, as if she were talking about anyone else except her.

He made a grunt to show that he heard her and began reading the pamphlet in earnest. She sipped her coffee and waited for him to finish. She had already memorized the words the night before, she didn't need it anymore.

"So what next?" He asked, slipping the paper into his inner jacket pocket at her nod of permission.

"I don't know."

"They didn't tell you?"

She cracked a smile at that.

"Oh, they told me. They told me _lots_ of things. More things than I can probably remember, if we're being honest, which is impressive because my memory is borderline eidetic and I have a knack for remembering things, but mostly numbers I guess. Oddly enough, they didn't even tell me any numbers yesterday. Maybe I could ask for some of those."

"Maybe."

She paused, inhaling deeply before just taking the plunge. "Listen, I don't even know if this is okay to be telling you, or if you even want to know but the fact of the matter is that I don't really have anyone else to talk to about this and I know that it's my fault because I'm not telling anyone but I just don't know how or when and I'm sure I'm going to have to soon, but-"

"You can say whatever you want to say, kid. I don't know what I'm doing here either, but go ahead and spit it out."

"All these treatments and stuff and surgeries, well, they're supposed to start as soon as possible. But when that is depends on if I end up getting…" She gestured wildly to the front of her body.

"End up...getting...a new heart?"

She closed her eyes before just blurting it out. "It depends on if I want to get my eggs harvested so that I can have kids after treatment."

Detective Lance let out a low breath but to his credit, his face gave away no suggestion that he might feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable with the topic.

"And you uh, want to? Or you don't want to? Or you...can't?"

"I have no idea what I want to do. I just...that's a _big_ decision. I never really thought about it or considered it, really. With what I do for our friend, I kind of assumed…."

"That what? That you'd _die_ before you had kids?" Lance looked more than a little upset at her train of thought. "The hell you will!"

"I just never thought I'd have to deal with this decision is all." Not 100% true, but she didn't want to make him any more upset than he already was.

"Well don't you think you should be having this conversation with, you know. ...Aren't you and our _friend_ more than friends?" Now he _did_ look uncomfortable, but it only lasted for a moment before Felicity realized what he was trying to say and burst out laughing.

"No! Not even a - no. We are not. We are friends, yes. But not...more. Not more than that."

"Whatever you say."

"I do say. I say that. And we are...no." She let out one last laugh before the severity of the situation settled back on her shoulders. "Unfortunately, that means that this is a me-decision. And I'm not historically great at those."

"Do you want to know what I think?"

"What you think about my ovaries?"

He gave her a scathing look as her question attracted attention from the two tables next to them. He smiled tightly at their neighbors before focusing back on Felicity.

"About _kids_."

She nodded, an apologetic smile drawing one out of him in return. She really was something.

"Even after...everything that I went through with my girls, and I mean...I went through more than what I even thought was possible. But even after all that, I wouldn't...I wouldn't change a thing, you hear me? They are the best things to ever happen to me and I might be biased, but I think they're one of the better things to ever happen to Starling City, too. And even after all those years, all those nights of not knowing - I never once regretted them. Not. Once."

She absorbed his words, mulling them over. She appreciated him giving her an opinion that wasn't a plea or an urge. It was just a father who loved his daughters.

"You wouldn't change anything?"

"Well, I might have had a tighter leash when it came to their choice in men, but besides that, no. Not one thing."

"You think I should do it." It wasn't a question.

"I think you would be an amazing parent. You're already pretty good at taking care of our citywide menace." He grew serious suddenly. "I think you should not let the idea that maybe you won't be around keep you from this. This is your life, not anyone else's. You're in control of what happens."

The thing was, to Felicity, this didn't feel anything like her life. It was like she was supposed to make all these huge, critical decisions, but she half expected to wake up from this nightmare soon, where it wouldn't matter at all.

Their coffee break turned into actually three hours, and she was happy to note that they didn't spend the _entire_ time mulling over her diagnosis. He was happy to talk about some of the new detectives at the precinct and she even mentioned that she could do some consulting for the police department if they ever wanted to update their security into this century.

"Your sure you don't need me this afternoon?"

While a part of her wanted him to come with her just so she wouldn't be alone (and another part wanted him to go with her to see the look on everyone's faces when they assumed he was either her father or lover), she declined his offer regardless. He was right when he said that it was her life, and she needed to decide for herself. She needed to make this decision _by_ herself.

She almost balked the second she walked through the door to the fertility clinic, but she surprised even herself by sticking around and asking questions that had come to her the night before. She had never contemplated too much about kids, never given it more than just a cursory thought, so she was as shocked as anyone when it hit her all of a sudden: she might not want them now, and she might not even want them in the future, but the idea of not even having the option? That's what shook her to her core.

There was just one small thing.

She would have to give herself injections. Daily. For up to three weeks.

Yikes.

* * *

"Were you ever afraid of needles?"

Felicity was spinning in her chair in the lair, waiting on some search results, watching Dig restock the med bay. Oliver was nearby, sharpening arrowheads and making small adjustments to his quiver, and Roy stretched out on the training mats playing what Felicity thought was Candy Crush on an iPad.

"Needles? Nah," Dig dismissed the thought. "Why, you thinking about getting a tattoo?"

"Funny. No. I just...I don't like being afraid of ridiculous things."

"You're afraid of kangaroos, Felicity," Oliver pointed out, not looking up.

"Animals shouldn't have pockets. Besides, I'm not going to run into a kangaroo anytime soon. But I run into needles _all_ the time here."

"Maybe you should watch where you're going," Dig suggested. "The way I look at it is that yeah, there have been plenty of times that one needle by itself has killed someone."

"Not helping."

"_But_ that doesn't even compare to the amount of times that one needle has saved a person's life. Tetanus shots, anti-venoms, adrenaline, flu vaccines," he ticked off one by one.

"You were almost _killed_ by a flu vaccine."

"And I'm still not afraid of them. Am I amazing or what?"

"You're something," she muttered, resuming her spinning.

"I'm afraid of X-rays," Roy called out, surprising absolutely no one. "Radiation, man."

"Maybe you'll turn into the Hulk," Dig suggested.

"I kind of already am the Hulk."

"One chest X-ray is equivalent to about 30 or 40 hours of flying in an airplane, so it's really kind of negligible." Three pairs of eyes settled on her. "What, _Roy_ is the only one allowed to read now?"

"How much radiation does that iPad give off?" Oliver asked casually, but gave Felicity a wink. Roy seemed to consider this for a second before closing the case and leaving it on a desk.

"I'm gonna go see if Thea needs any help."

"You're going to give him a complex," she scolded Oliver after Roy had disappeared upstairs.

"Kid's already got a complex."

"I wonder whose fault that is."

* * *

"You look good," Oliver commented Monday morning, leaning over her monitors, much to her consternation. "You look very...awake."

"Doesn't really work the opposite way, but I appreciate the effort," she told him with an easy smile.

She felt better, too. She had received some supplements from the hospital and in additional to the Tylenol regimen, her fevers were now under control and her night sweats were no longer waking her up. She knew that if anything, _this_ was the walking ghost phase for her. This was her before phase. Before the treatments began, before she got poked and prodded forever, before she lost her...everything. It was only going to get worse for her. A sobering thought.

She was still pretty tired but she combated that with liberal amounts of coffee in the meantime. She was managing her symptoms, which was all she was expected to do at this stage.

She forced down another steak for lunch that day ("You still look pale," Oliver had argued. If only he knew.); she wasn't sure if the lack of an appetite was a symptom of the cancer or a symptom of her nerves. She had another appointment after work that day to meet her very own oncologist and she was terrified.

For a brief moment, she contemplated asking Oliver to come with her. But the idea of having to explain all of it to him at that moment was daunting, and besides, it wasn't like anything bad was going to happen. She was just going to make the plans to begin the fertility regimen and coordinate between that specialist and her new oncologist. Pretty standard stuff. She knew she had made the right decision when Oliver told her he had plans with Thea for dinner.

"You're more than welcome to join us," he offered. "Thea promises she's forgiven you for breaking the dress code."

"As much as I would love to, I have a thing."

"A thing?"

She echoed him in her mind. _A thing?_ That was the best she could come up with?

"Yeah, a thing."

"A Lance thing?"

"Sometimes I have things that aren't Lance things." She felt a little bad using him as her excuse constantly. Oliver was going to start thinking he fell off the wagon or something when in reality, he was just being a good guy.

"A...date thing?"

"I wish," she muttered. That would be preferable to how she would be spending her evening.

"What?"

"No date. Just a thing."

"An alone thing? Do you need Dig?"

She stepped closer to him, putting a hand to his cheek. "You worry too much. Sometimes a thing is just a thing. Sometimes a thing is returning a few Red Box movies because you can't ever remember to take them back the next day."

"If you say so."

"I do. Have fun with Thea and tell her I said hi. And tell her I haven't worn those heels since the party in penance."

"I will not do that, but okay. I will see you later. Have fun doing your thing."

"You have fun with your thing. Or. Don't. Because that's not what I meant. Not that you can't do that! You're an adult, and you're not in a relationship, so it makes sense, not that its any of my business, but this has _got_ to be the most awkward conversation we have ever had so I'm going to...not."

He opened his mouth a few times to respond but no words came out. He eventually settled for a sigh.

"Goodnight, Felicity."

* * *

Felicity spent the drive to the hospital mostly feeling guilty. Guilty for making Detective Lance carry this burden. Guilty for lying to Oliver and Dig, even Roy.

She didn't know exactly what was keeping her from telling Oliver. She knew for a fact that she would feel better. That he would know what do somehow. As it was, she spent most of her time weighing her decisions with what Oliver would think. For instance, meeting this new oncologist: she knew that once Oliver found out, he was going to demand that she see the best of the best. She was sure that she wasn't getting a slacker doctor, but she didn't think Oliver would see it that way. He would want to run background checks and financials. Then there was the egg harvesting, a phrase which made her feel more like a corn field than an actual human. Would Oliver be mad that she was postponing her treatment for such a selfish thing? Would he understand, and hold her hand as she dealt with it? Help her with the injections?

She wondered about all of that. The questions wouldn't answer themselves and more often than not, they kept her up at night. But she knew some things for certain. She knew that if - when - Oliver knew, that he would take it hard. He had already lost so many people. She knew that it would distract him, make him lose focus on what was really important in the city. He would want so badly to be the good guy and to help her, but he would just end up being torn between her illness and his responsibilities. He would feel awful, and it would be her fault.

But she knew she wasn't going to be able to hide it forever.

She didn't have an exact plan in her head as to when she would tell Team Arrow. Obviously before she began treatment, but when? And how? If she was being honest with herself, while she knew they would be supportive, she was a little afraid of how they might react. She didn't think she could handle the looks of pity.

Those thoughts carried her through her drive to the hospital and into Dr. Monroe's office. She was greeted by Dr. Monroe, Dr. Markowitz, and a new doctor that she assumed was going to be her oncologist. She had to admit, she didn't realize they came that young, or looked like that.

He was tall, probably in his early thirties, with dark hair that just had a little dash of silver on the sides. It was thick and full, and he ran his fingers through it routinely, sufficiently distracting her. He was thin but with rounded cheekbones and for some reason Felicity wanted to refer to him as 'jovial.' He introduced himself as Dr. Fox and she had to physically bite her tongue from saying what she was sure every other patient had ever said to him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Smoak."

"Please, you can call me Felicity. I'm sure you'll be seeing more than a lot of me soon enough." His smile faltered for just a moment as she realized what she had said. "I mean, X-rays and stuff. And examinations. I didn't mean anything else. I just meant that you're going to see like, my bones. And cells. Literally all of me. You will see me. Okay."

"It really isn't a nerves thing, is it dear?" Dr. Monroe mused.

The meeting proceeded normally, she assumed, after that. They did a high-level overview of some of the treatments she would be receiving and even briefly covered insurance issues. She was still pretty surprised when Dr. Fox asked her a question she hadn't been anticipating.

"Doctor Sandra Oakley at Starling Fertility contacted me today and informed me that she believed you would be going through with the egg harvesting program they have, is that correct?" She nodded. "Okay, I am in no way trying to sway your decision, but as your medical provider I do need to remind you of certain things. One, this _will_ delay your treatment. It is important you understand that with an aggressive cancer such as yours, every minute counts. At this point, it is impossible for me to say whether two to four weeks will have an extreme impact, but I am required to tell you that it may. And two, we urge you not to make this decision lightly."

Felicity bristled at that. They thought she had made this decision _lightly_? She had lost countless hours of sleep ever since they had mentioned it to her and she had been in a constant state of conflict ever since. There was nothing _light_ about this, unless you count her bank account, which she estimated would look more than a little pathetic after undergoing this procedure. But it was when they suggested that she consider an "ethical perspective," the idea that maybe she could knowingly leave her child motherless if her cancer came back that really riled her.

She sat back in her chair roughly, staring at the doctors that surrounded her. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts and come up with an eloquent response but when she did, she was happy with how strong her voice was.

"I have seen people lose their parents to boat wrecks and bombs and muggings and...and _arrows_," she bit out. "There's a possibility that my cancer comes back and kills me. But there's also a possibility that it kills me next month. Or next year. There's a possibility that I could get hit by a bus leaving here. So I don't need your _ethics_. What I need is for you to respect my decision to give myself the future that I want."

"Very well," Dr. Fox conceded. "No more questions will be asked on the subject. I will need you to go see Dr. Oakley as soon as possible in order to begin your treatment. I'll work in tandem with her in order to monitor your blood work and your progress. I know that you've been told this, but the hormones that you will be injecting into yourself have a possible side effect of thinning your blood, making the surgery to remove the diseased nodes as well as your spleen impossible until you have completed the procedure. You can expect that surgery to occur as early as two days after the egg harvesting."

Right. She had been told all that, but it might have been during her information overload blackouts.

"Do I need my spleen?"

Dr. Fox grinned at her, looking impossibly young. He seemed to have swept the whole fertility issue under the rug as easily as she hoped to. "Nah. Bonus organ."

* * *

Time started to move at an insane speed from then on out. A week later and she still hadn't told Oliver or Dig, and she was, much to her distaste, becoming more adept at injecting herself with hormones. The world was a whacky place.

She had been giving herself the injections in her abdomen for only four days. Every third day she would have to go in to the office and have a quick ultrasound and blood drawn. She had told Oliver the day before that she was getting an early lunch with Detective Lance to cover for her appointment, and he had actually held her shoulder and told her what a good thing she was doing.

She almost told him right then and there.

But it was never the right time, she argued to herself constantly. He was in the middle of a pretty big case, vigilante-wise, and QC's Applied Sciences project with the Chinese ex-pats was getting underway. Oliver was constantly stressed, and the little smiles he gave her when they had coffee together or worked together in the lair told Felicity that he needed a reprieve from his life, and badly. She didn't want to jeopardize that for him.

Detective Lance was now firmly on the 'tell the Arrow' bandwagon as well, but didn't seem as committed to telling Oliver Queen, oddly enough. He felt that she could benefit more from one's presence over the other, a fact that could draw a smile out of Felicity any day of the week. They met up for coffee every other day, at his insistence, not her's, where he would casually try to pressure her into telling people about her diagnosis or even to allow him to accompany her to appointments. She drew the line at having him at the fertility clinic, but told him that he could definitely keep her company when she began treatment, if he wanted.

It was a Tuesday afternoon when a woman in a smart pantsuit cornered her at her desk.

"Miss Smoak, I'm Evelyn Joyner. I'm the head of QC, Inc's Human Resources department." She shook her hand, confused by her presence but polite regardless. "Do you have a few minutes to speak with me about something important?"

"Uh, sure! Just let me tell Oli- Mr. Queen that I'm stepping away from my desk." Felicity stood up and knocked on Oliver's glass door, more of a pretense for their unexpected guest than for his benefit. "Mr. Queen, I have to take a minute with Ms. Joyner, from HR. Is that okay?"

"That is perfectly fine, Miss Smoak." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't forget to offer her some coffee."

Turning her shoulders so that Evelyn couldn't see her, Felicity mimed slicing her throat to Oliver, to which he just laughed. She directed Evelyn to the conference room next door and knowing that Oliver could read lips easily, she positioned Ms. Joyner with her back to Oliver. She could almost see him deflate.

"Miss Smoak, just so you know, first and foremost, everything we say inside these walls is confidential."

Oh God, did she accidentally sexually harass someone again? It had only happened once before when her mouth had ran away from her and she had unintentionally mentioned a fellow IT colleague's fake boobs, but she had thought that had been swept under the rug.

"Ooookay."

"I just need you to sign some FMLA paperwork. Your doctor will send us his signed copy whenever you begin your leave of absence."

"Leave of what-sence?" Felicity felt her heart start to run away from her, the blood draining out of her face. Did this woman know? Out of everyone at QC, how did this woman in a pantsuit know?

"You signed this paperwork, did you not?" She slid over a manila folder and inside, sure enough, she found her signature. She had signed so many damn forms when getting tested and poked that she really wasn't all that surprised to see it. But as she glossed over it, she realized that it didn't actually say her diagnosis. It just simply said 'medical leave.' Her relief was short lived.

"Now, these are unusual circumstances, but QC offers some unusual benefits. We have been in contact with our insurance company in regards to some treatments that may be available to you."

"Treatments."

"Yes. For instance, egg harvesting." Now Felicity knew that she was going to pass out. There was no doubt in her mind. Her ears started clanging and spots danced in front of her eyes. She quickly remembered Dig's advice and put her head between her legs, hands clasped behind her head and she pushed back into them. She wasn't sure why, but it did quiet the noise in her head and allow her to breathe more easily.

She looked up and was unsurprised to see Oliver standing at the door, looking in. His eyes were questioning but she shook her head minutely. She didn't need him right now, despite how much she might've wanted him in there.

"How do you know…?" She whispered.

"You signed a disclosure form, allowing your insurance to talk to us on your behalf. It's the second page in the folder-"

"I'm sure I did," she ground out, frustrated with herself. "What do you need to tell me?" She had already paid $3,000 out of pocket for the treatments. She was going to have to sell one of her handmade computers at home to get the rest of the cash - about $12,000 for the procedure and anesthesia - but she could do it. She would do it.

"While egg harvesting is no longer considered experimental by the government, it isn't widely covered by insurance, including the plan that we currently have at Queen Consolidated. However, it does fall under a different category of 'innovative treatments.' QC, as the leader in medical, science, and technological advancements, has an allotment every year for these."

"You're saying you'd pay for my treatment?" She felt hope burgeoning inside of her. QC's insurance was good - great, even - but this was unprecedented. "All of it?"

"Well, QC would, possibly, yes."

"How? How does this work?"

"It just needs to be approved and then we will file the claim for you. Nothing you have to do on your end."

She froze.

"Approved by who?"

"The head of HR, which is me, and then the CEO and the CFO."

Felicity took a deep breath before shutting the folder in front of her a little more forcefully than was necessary and sliding it back across the table.

"No thank you."

"I-I'm sorry?"

"I'm not interested in having QC cover that treatment."

"Miss Smoak, let me assure you that we have not had any other claims this year that qualify for this. The funds are available, and with your situation what it is, I have no reason to believe you wouldn't be approved."

Felicity stood. "I understand, but I am really not interested. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me and I'll be sure to have my doctor stay on top of my absence paperwork."

The woman stood as well, gathering her papers in front of her, still looking a little confused at the change of direction the conversation had.

"Very well then."

Felicity stopped her at the door, a hand on her forearm.

"I don't want this being brought to Mr. Queen under any circumstances, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Miss Smoak. I meant it when I said that everything discussed was confidential. Have a good day."

"You too." She didn't have any time to process what had just happened - what had _almost_ just happened - because the second Evelyn Joyner was out of view, Oliver was by her side. She knew he had only pretended to work ever since her she had to forcibly calm herself down, his eyes darting to the conference room every other second. He wasn't nearly as sneaky as he thought he was.

"Are you okay? What happened in there? What did she want?"

"I'm fine," she reassured him, although she felt anything but. Her heart was still beating rapidly and she felt hot, cold, and clammy, all at the same time. She wanted to sit down and take some Tylenol and drink some water, but Oliver's body blocked her path. "One of my doctors from a few weeks back was out of network is all."

"And that made you almost pass out?"

"You would too if you saw that co-pay." A voice in her head screamed for her to tell him, that _this_ was the perfect time, but she couldn't get her mouth to stop lying. "Luckily, she thinks I've already met my deductible this year so I won't have to pay the whole thing."

"Hey," he put his hand on her shoulder, his thumb doing that small stroking thing that made her lose her mind. "You know I'd pay it if you needed me to, right? There's no amount of money that I wouldn't spend to keep you healthy."

"I know. You're a good man Oliver Queen."

_Too good_, her mind yelled. Maybe it was for the best that he didn't know. At least for now.


	8. It's Okay To Not Be Okay

**A/N: So sorry for the delay with this; I have the head cold from hell and I have been in a NyQuil haze for the better part of the last week. I meant worst part. I'm still kind of drugged. **

**Hopefully you don't hate me for this chapter! It starts answering a lot of questions - and hopefully doesn't create too many more - and really sets the stage for some of the drama to come. Promise the next chapter will be this weekend, so you won't have to wait that long!**

* * *

She had sworn that she would never take him there, but she really had no choice. She needed someone to drive her home after the procedure.

It was the following Saturday and Felicity nervously tugged at the sleeves of her hoodie. It was one she had pilfered from Oliver, dark gray and worn in all the right spots, giving her comfort that she hadn't really anticipated on. She had just liked it because it smelled like him.

"This is certainly a weird way to spend my Saturday," Lance told her quietly as they sat in the waiting room at Starling Fertility. "No idea how I'd explain this to Laurel if she caught me here."

As nervous as she was, Detective Lance's company was appreciated. He offered her levity and even though they would sometimes talk of the most dire things, he always ended the conversation with her smiling. That was how he knew it was okay to walk away from her, to leave her with her thoughts. If she wasn't smiling, he wouldn't leave. His own personal rule.

"The press would have a field day if Oliver were here."

"You tell him yet?" In the past week or so, he hadn't even bothered to hide his consternation with her remaining mum about her condition. He used to at least attempt subtlety when it came to her choices, but he was now foregoing subterfuge in favor of bold questions.

"No, I have not told Oliver." She sighed. This was a fairly typical conversation between the two of them.

"What is he gonna do when you just don't show up for work due to a major surgery?"

"I'll tell him before that! Besides, I have his entire schedule micromanaged for the next four weeks. He will be fine."

"Pah."

"What?"

"You think the man is going to be going to meetings while you're getting operated on?" She shrugged. She had assumed yes. "You are too smart to be that dumb."

"He can't just not do his job, Detective. He has to go to work."

"Have you met the kid? He pretty much does whatever the hell he pleases. Ten to nothing, he is camping out in the waiting room with me."

She ducked her face as a smile and blush spread. She didn't remember her dad. She had no memories of him tucking her in at night, or reading her stories, or helping her put together a computer. She didn't have any of those memories with Lance, either, but somehow the man next to her had become more of a father to her in the past month than her own had been in five years. She didn't bother to tell him not to meet her for coffee anymore, or even try to dissuade him from coming that day to the clinic, so she knew there was no way she was going to get him to not come to the hospital for her surgery.

It hadn't been scheduled yet, but she knew it was approaching quickly. She would have this procedure today, and then on Tuesday she was going to have a PET scan, to determine all the cancer hot spots in her body. Judging from that, they'd make plans for her surgery. The idea of it happening as early as the end of the week made Felicity lightheaded, so she tried to not think about it.

"And what about the other guy, our friend? When are you gonna tell him?"

"It's complicated."

"No, this thing where they're - when they're gonna be scooping out your insides and freezing them. _That's_ complicated. You telling people in your life that you're seriously sick is the opposite of complicated. Simple."

"This procedure isn't actually all that complicated, you know. They explained it to me, and they're not even putting me under for it. Even though I've looked like I'm pregnant for the last few days, which is _seriously_ unfortunate."

"Yeah, well, not sure they send you here if you're already pregnant, kid."

It was true, she was more than a little swollen, and even with the knowledge that it was temporary, just seeing her belly barely protrude was enough to convince Felicity that she was making the right decision. Her ovaries were over stimulated to try and produce the most amount of eggs possible in order to give them the best chance of being frozen, which logically made sense to Felicity. It didn't help her wardrobe selections though, and she knew she saw Dig's eyes on her abdomen more than once in the past 36 hours.

They waited patiently for her name to be called for another fifteen minutes, all while the detective gave her not-so-subtle jabs about not telling anyone about her 'condition.' He squeezed her hand as she stood to follow the nurse and she impulsively leaned down and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered, scurrying away before he could reprimand her. She didn't turn around to see the flush crawl up his cheeks, or the quick eye roll that accompanied his smile.

* * *

"I don't want to talk about it," she told him curtly as he helped her into his car an hour and a half later.

She was trying so hard to be strong, to pretend that it didn't hurt, that she wasn't in some of the worst imaginable pain she had ever experienced, that she didn't even stop to think that maybe it hurt him to see her like that.

While they had injected her with some pain relief, it did little to mask the fact that there was a huge needle inside of her, sucking out her eggs from their happy warm home inside of her ovaries. It was the worst pain she had felt down there in a long time, like every single UTI she had ever had combined. That, plus the fact that she was still _just_ as swollen, if not more so, than she had been before, made Felicity more than a little cranky.

"You don't have to stay," she told him as she relaxed into the couch, biting her lip so hard that she was pretty sure she tasted blood. The cramps had begun and she felt a sweat break out along the top of her lip. She was in for a rough rest of the day.

"Yeah, sure." He laughed her off, filling a Nalgene water bottle for her at her fridge.

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

She was starting to get frustrated. She really wanted to be left alone so that she could just cry and be in pain by herself. She wanted to curl into a little ball and have no one judge her, least of all the man with two of Starling City's strongest daughters.

"Quentin, you don't have to be here." It was the first time she had ever used his first name, and it definitely caught his attention.

"Yes. I do." He put the water bottle on the coffee table in front of her. He had years of practice of knowing when a daughter wanted to fight with him, and he was happy to let her get it out of her system. He was surprised she had made it this long, actually, with no one else to talk to and only him, constantly hovering over her.

"I'm fine!" She snapped.

"You're not fine!" She had never heard him use this voice on her. She didn't have much experience but she knew that this was definitely a 'dad voice.' Loud, with his accent more pronounced, he paced in front of her, ranting. "You girls _always_ think you're fine. Always think that you're untouchable because you're strong and smart. And you _are_. You are one of the strongest people I have ever known in my **life** Felicity, but that does not mean that you are fine. You are going through something no one should ever have to go through and you're doing it alone! So excuse me if I don't think you're fine."

"I can do this!" Her voice was loud but shaky. She was trying not to come undone.

"I know, sweetheart." He came over to her, sitting on the coffee table next to the water. "But you don't _have _to."

That was the tipping point.

She fumbled for his hand, holding it tightly as she felt three weeks of fears and frustrations and confusion overwhelm her. Of all the times she had cried before, and there had been plenty, she had never been comforted. She had never had someone hold on to her and tell her that it was okay to feel what she was feeling. She had no idea she needed this, no idea that her body craved it, until Detective Lance stood and scooted her over, gathered her in his arms, and let her cry out every single feeling she had ever felt.

* * *

"For you," Oliver dropped a coffee cup in front of her desk on Tuesday morning.

"Not that I am complaining at all, but what is this for?"

Oliver shrugged. "You don't get coffee with Lance on Tuesdays or Thursdays."

"Aaaand you wanted to try your hand at being an EA on me?"

"EAs do not necessarily get coffee," he pointed out.

"How right you are."

She was pleasantly surprised when Oliver didn't immediately go to his office, instead perching on the corner of her desk. Her surprise turned to suspicious, however, when he opened his mouth.

"Is everything okay with you lately?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You just seem - I don't know. You practically ran out of the lair on Sunday, I thought maybe you weren't feeling good again."

"Just tired is all," she reassured him. "I am sad I had to miss that pizza though."

"_Celebratory_ pizza. All thanks to you."

"It's true; I'm not sure where this city would be if it wasn't for me sitting behind a computer." She was happy they were able to get Dr. Franz Lloyd off the street, and she was more than willing to accept any credit that Oliver gave her, even if it wasn't due. She had just figured out where the drugs were going; Team Arrow did all the hard, scary work. She had bowed out as early as possible because she was still experiencing some pretty bad cramps and the last thing she wanted to do was to be in pain around a group of vigilantes.

"I kind of, uh," Oliver cleared his throat, loosening his tie a bit, "I kind of miss you lately."

She slid her hand over his where it was propped on her desk, allowing herself the comfort of two fingers locking with his.

"I kind of miss you too." Making a split decision, she decided to take the plunge. "Maybe we can eat pizza together this week, if that's okay with you? Talk about some things?"

She felt her heart melt at the way his head cocked to the side briefly, his eyes searching hers as a small smile graced his face.

"Yeah, we can definitely do that. How about Thursday? Pizza at the lair? My treat."

"I balance your checkbook. Trust me, it will _always_ be your treat."

And just like that, Felicity felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Sure, she hadn't told him yet, but she had made definite plans to. She just needed to get through the PET scan that afternoon and then Wednesday, and she would feel a lot better. She was under no illusions that telling Oliver would be easy; it was bound to be one of the hardest things she's ever had to do, but at least then he would be on her side when she told Dig and Roy. That was what she really needed. Another body in her corner.

* * *

Felicity was bored to tears. Even though she knew that the hospital never ran on any type of schedule, she was always disappointed when her tests were pushed back. Then there was the test itself. She hadn't realized PET scans were so boring too. The X-rays she had done plus the CAT scans that would be used in conjunction with this only took a few minutes. With this dumb test, she had an IV drip of a radioactive solution that took over an hour to reach all of her organs, when she couldn't even move with it in, and **then** the scan itself took another 45 minutes.

She had just finished having the scan and they wheeled her into the hallway. She was itching to get out of there, but bit back a growl of frustration when they told her it would still be a few minutes. They wanted to make sure the scan picked up everything so she wouldn't have to redo it. Seeing the wisdom in that, she pulled herself up and dangled her feet off the edge of the gurney. She hated the feel of the cold air against her back, but tried to tell herself that she had to get used to hospital gowns, and forced herself to remain sitting up.

She had expected this would take longer than the allotted time, but a quick glance at a clock on the wall told her that Oliver would be done with his meetings at QC and heading to the lair soon, and he would expect to see her there. What she hadn't expected as hearing someone call her name from down the hall.

"Felicity? Blondie?"

Her first thought was how bad she was going to kick Detective Lance's ass for telling Roy of all people she was here, but as he made his way down the hallway, she could tell that he was just as confused as she was.

"Hey Roy, what are you doing here?"

"Oliver had me bring back the medicine we found at the raid the other night," he told her quietly. "I'm just stopping by to make sure it's being used as its supposed to. What about you? What happened?"

"Nothing," she blurted out way too fast. She saw his brow furrow in confusion and decided to spin one last web of lies before she confessed to Oliver later that week. "I fell. At work. Outside of work, actually. Up the stairs. I'm fine. But someone saw me. And they gave me the option of either telling Oliver or coming here for an X-ray, just to be sure. I chose the less painful option."

"Damn, they made you change into this just for an X-ray? What was it, a full body one?"

"Hah hah."

"Okay, well, feel better." He leaned in, hugging her. "I'll see you tonight?"

"Yup, as soon as I get out of here. And uh, do me a favor and...don't tell Oliver you saw me? You don't wanna waste my X-ray, do you?"

"Secret's safe with me. Later, Blondie."

She let out a huge breath, which only serve to make her cough and almost hyperventilate. Still, she couldn't believe it had gotten that close. She had no idea what she would've done if Roy had spotted her talking to a doctor or a radiologist. She needed it to be Thursday night right then and there. She had to tell Oliver and get this secret off of her chest before it killed her. Literally.

* * *

After getting the all clear, Felicity raced to change and get over to the lair. She knew Oliver was going to have some questions about where she was, but she felt fairly confident that she could distract him with some new security protocols she was thinking about implementing.

When she typed in the passcode and opened the door to the basement, she was surprised to hear loud voices greeting her.

"I'm telling you, this thing doesn't lie!" Roy was getting dangerously close to shouting at Oliver (she assumed, anyways), and Felicity tried to hurry her steps down. She had already rushed across the parking lot, though, and she didn't want to be a panting mess when she interrupted them, so she was forced to take the stairs one at a time.

"It's broken then."

"It's not broken! It works perfectly fine. Or at least, it did. It's a one-time use sort of thing, so I'll have to get another one."

Felicity had gotten down the steps far enough that she could see Roy, Oliver, and Dig facing off in front of her desk, with Roy holding what looked to be an ID badge up to Oliver's face.

"What's going on?"

"Felicity," Oliver sighed, looking sincerely happy to see her. He turned to Roy. "See, it would've gone off. Assuming you didn't break that one, too."

"Not if she didn't get close enough to it, man."

"Whaaaat are you two talking about?" She was at the bottom of the stairs but still held on to the railing, steadying herself.

"Roy has lost his mind, apparently." Oliver threw his hands up in frustration.

"What is that?" She nodded to the badge in Roy's hands.

"It's a _film badge dosimeter_."

"...Does it have a microchip?"

"No, it doesn't work like that. It's a personal radiation detection device. And it went off in the hospital. After I hugged _you_."

She felt her heart drop. She was an idiot, she really was. For all her degrees and certificates and smarts, how could she have forgotten the one thing they had told her an hour or so earlier? She had very specific instructions from the radiologist: drink lots of water afterwards to flush the radiation from her system and avoid getting too close to anyone she knew that might be pregnant until the radiation was gone. The solution that they gave her in her IV was very strong, and there was a high chance of it seeping through her skin. They hadn't warned her of hugging anyone with personal radiation devices on them, but she figured that probably wasn't a FAQ.

"Felicity, you don't look surprised by this," Dig commented. Oliver spun around and Roy was just staring at her with a mixture of fear and curiosity on his face.

"Felicity, if you were exposed to high levels of radiation, we need to know!" Oliver looked more than a little concerned at this point.

"No, no, I wasn't, I promise!"

"Then how do you explain this?" Roy dangled the badge off his finger.

"Uh."

"Fe-lic-it-y."

"Oh, boy."

* * *

**I wish you all could've seen the look on my doctor's face when asked if it was possible for a personal film badge dosimeter to go off after someone receives a lot of radioactive solution for a PET scan. He said it certainly was possible, but that he really didn't think it was healthy for a friend of mine to have a personal radiation detection device. I probably should have said it was for a story and not have posed it as a hypothetical. Poor Roy is officially unhealthy :(**


	9. Radioactive

**A/N: Here it is, as promised! Hope everyone is having a wonderful Passover or Easter or just plain weekend!**

* * *

Oliver walked over to her, put his hands on her shoulders, and looked her in the eye.

"Felicity, what is going on?" She almost broke down right then and there at the tone of his voice; he was so concerned for her. He was so worried.

"Careful dude, I don't know if you want to be touching her right now."

"I'm not radioactive! Not anymore! Not that I ever _really_ was, for the record."

"My dos-whatever begs to differ."

"Roy, **I swear to god**," Oliver barked out. It was the angriest she had heard him in a long time, and it wasn't his typical Arrow-anger. This was all Oliver Queen, completely frustrated and clueless about what was going on.

She grasped her hands tightly in front of her, desperately trying to get them to stop shaking. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. She was..._so_ _close_ to telling everyone in her own way. Not that that would have been perfect, but it would have been preferable to this. A firing squad would have been preferable to this.

"I didn't want to tell you…" She whispered. "Not like this."

Oliver's hands fell from her shoulders and he took four steps back, more in line with Dig and Roy. His face was closed off and she couldn't get a read on him but something told her that maybe that was for the best right then.

"Tell me what?"

"I was going to tell you," she insisted. She had to get him to understand. He had to know that she was _going_ to tell him! "This Thursday. Pizza. Talking."

"Felicity." Now _that_ was his Arrow voice. Low and emotionless. "What do you need to tell me?" He enunciated every word, not looking away from her.

She swallowed thickly.

"You're sick."

All eyes darted to Diggle.

"What?" She hadn't expected anyone to guess, let alone correctly, and she was more than a little stunned.

"Come on, don't treat me like an idiot, Felicity. You're sick," he repeated. His eyes were hard, glittering at her and inviting her to challenge him.

"Is he right?" Oliver turned on her. "Are you sick?"

All she could manage was one jerky nod. The mask fell off of Oliver's face and she wished it would return. He looked so hurt and confused and it only served to make her feel more hurt as well.

"Sick with what?" She didn't respond right away and his voice grew louder. "Sick with what, Felicity? Are you still sick from last month? What the hell is going on?"

The silence was deafening. Felicity's response was barely above a whisper, but heard by all.

"Cancer."

"_What_?" Oliver ran a hand over his short hair. "Did you just say _cancer_?"

"A type of lymphoma, actually." She wanted to add more but stopped herself. As much as it would comfort her to babble at that particular moment, she honestly didn't think it would be appreciated or tolerated.

Oliver's mouth opened and closed, unable to form words. Diggle stood beside him, arms crossed, glaring at her, expressionless. Roy was on the opposite side of Oliver, bracing himself on a beam behind him. His mouth was open and his eyes were soft and sympathetic but unfocused, trying to process what he was being told.

"I-" She stopped herself, unsure of what she was even going to say. She felt the need to defend herself, or to apologize, or to say _something_, but how could she make this right? She had planned for a lot of reactions, but she had never accounted for this; she felt like she was being blindsided right along with him.

"How long have you known? How long have you known, Felicity?"

It took her three attempts to force her response out of her lungs.

"A month."

There was a pause in the room, like everyone was holding their breath, before Oliver let out an animalistic roar. In one smooth move, he swiped all four of her monitors off of her desk, throwing them to the floor. The noise was almost deafening as it echoed around the basement and Felicity couldn't help but to jump, closing her eyes and trying desperately to keep the tears at bay. That wouldn't help her now.

"A fucking month, Felicity?! I can't - you _lied to me_ for a **month**?" He stilled, his hands still in the air from gesturing wildly at her. "Lance," he accused. "Lance knew, didn't he? That's what you've been doing with him all this time."

She wasn't aware of nodding or affirming anything, but she doubted Oliver was waiting for that anyways. He was pacing like a caged animal in front of her now; his hands were tugging violently at his short hair and his eyes were darting wildly around the lair. Suddenly he stopped in front of her, and she found herself wishing again that he would put the damn mask up. From the man who kept himself closed off from everything and everyone, the look of betrayal on his face was more than she thought she could handle right then.

He shook his head at her and was gone, up the stairs and out of the lair. He moved far too fast for her to chase after him, but she couldn't help the step she took as if to follow him, his name on her lips.

"Let him go," Dig commanded quietly, as if she actually could catch him if she wanted to.

"Dig…"

"I'm not going to pretend to understand. I don't. I don't understand and I don't want to. I don't want to know your reasons and I don't want to know why you felt like the right thing to do was to keep something like this from us. Not right now." He took a deep breath. "I do want to know if you're okay. Right now, at this moment, are you okay?"

She nodded. "I'm okay."

"Do you need me to do anything? Is there something I can get you, or someplace you need to go?"

"Not...not right now."

"Okay. Okay." It sounded as if he was talking more to himself than to her, and she didn't move to interrupt him. Finally, he spoke again. "If you don't need anything tonight, I'm going to go. I just - I need to. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"I'll be at the office, yeah."

"Okay. I'll see you then."

And then he was gone too, leaving her and Roy alone in the silence.

She turned to him, ready to attempt to apologize to the one team member that hadn't ran away from her. But before she could even open her mouth, she found herself enveloped in his arms, his scent and his signature red hoodie infiltrating all of her senses.

She wasn't sure how long they stood like that, him just holding her tight, or even at what point she started to cry. All she knew was that she felt drained after that last encounter. She had expected a weight to be lifted but all she felt was it move from her shoulders to settle in her stomach. She hadn't felt this out of control since all of this had started and she was first diagnosed.

"I'm so sorry," she found herself sobbing into his shoulder. "I'm so so so sorry. I never meant for this, I promise. I didn't want any of this."

"I know," he comforted her, hands running through her hair. Finally he pulled away, making a half-hearted attempt to wipe his own tear tracks from his face. "What do you say we order in some Chinese, huh? From that place with the terrible dumplings that you like?"

The Felicity of the last few weeks would have turned down his offer, insisting she was okay and she would be fine. However, the Felicity of the last half hour realized that she needed this. She needed someone. She couldn't do this on her own, not now, not after tonight, and if he was offering, then she was accepting.

"That sounds good. But do you think maybe we could eat at my place, if that's okay?" She didn't think she could handle being near her destroyed monitors at that moment, a constant reminder of the look in Oliver's eyes.

"Sure, of course. Let's go. Don't worry about the mess. I'll get it tomorrow."

* * *

She changed into some comfy yoga pants and over-sized MIT t-shirt while Roy ordered in some food. A quick glance in the mirror told her that she looked how she felt.

She was exhausted. Her pants, which used to be tight on her, hung awkwardly on her now, clinging to her knees, bunched loosely around her thighs. Her hair was a mess, half up and half down, whether by her own frustrated pulling or Roy's comfort, she wasn't sure. She had taken off her makeup and was staring at herself in the mirror for a first time in a long time, completely bare. She had dark circles around her eyes, and her paleness was much more pronounced. She was still severely anemic and despite the supplements and even the blood transfusion she had to have a week prior, it didn't help her pasty complexion. She tore her eyes away from her reflection. If this was how she looked now, she didn't even want to contemplate how she'd look in the middle of undergoing chemotherapy. Her hand went up to tangle in a stray lock of hair before she shoved it down, holding it in place with her other. She had been resolute about not thinking about the possibility of her losing her hair, and after bringing it up once, Detective Lance had also learned that that topic was taboo.

She sighed, sure that she had been gone for much longer than she should have been. She found Roy leaning against the wall outside her bedroom door. He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed, but the look in his eyes took away any reprimand she would have normally made. He was scared too.

They settled in on the couch; Felicity turned on some mindless sitcom, but the volume was too low for them to really pay attention. He spotted a pamphlet on the coffee table and picked it up.

"Can I…?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

When had her life become so ruled by pamphlets? That one she had been using as a placeholder in a book she was reading about stem cell therapies, but she had finished it the night before. It wasn't the most informative; it was about non-Hodgkin lymphoma, but it was only a few short pages.

"So this is uh, what you...this is you?"

She nodded. "I have a type of it, anyway. There are a lot of different kinds."

"What kind do you have?"

"B-Cell. Well, a type of B-Cell. Like I said...lots of variety."

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Felicity must have been in her bedroom for longer than she thought.

"Speaking of variety," Roy walked back to her living room with three huge plastic bags filled with food. "I wasn't sure what you wanted to eat, so I kind of…"

"Got one of everything?" She laughed. This was the most food she had seen in a long time and she was going to be eating leftovers for a week.

"Thank you," she said eventually, after polishing off a significant portion of lo mein and five steamed dumplings. It was the most she had eaten in one sitting in a long time, and she attributed that to the company. Roy was just a good kid. He didn't judge, he didn't even try and force her to talk. He just sat with her, a calming presence, and waited for whatever she would be comfortable with.

"No problem." He poked around in his cashew chicken before meeting her eyes. "I'm sorry about earlier. I know you didn't want me to say anything…"

"Don't apologize for that, Roy. I'm sure you must have been pretty scared to see your radiation thing go off."

"Try terrified," he laughed. "Everyone made fun of me for being overly cautious but no one thought it would ever come in handy. I really thought we were in the middle of some sort of attack."

Even Felicity had to laugh at that, the idea so ludicrous. No attack on Starling, just her. Just her body that was being barraged with radiation that was designed to save her life.

"I didn't realize that it would make your thing go off. I had a PET scan and they inject me with this radioactive solution. I didn't really think about it at all, actually. I was happy to see you there," she confessed. It was the same way she felt when she ran into Detective Lance at her first test appointment. There was a part of her - a really small part, but a part nonetheless - that had wanted Roy to figure it out. For him to know what was happening, and she wouldn't have to go through all the trouble of telling him, and she could be absolved. It would just take the problem completely out of her hands for once.

Of course, she wanted it to be _just_ him. At the hospital. There was not one bit of her that wanted what had happened at the lair to have occurred.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"Why did you wait to tell Dig and Oliver? I mean, I get why you didn't tell me, but it just seems like...maybe you'd want to tell them. They could have helped."

"What do you mean, you 'get' why I didn't tell you?"

"Well, I know I'm the youngest and the newest to Team Arrow, and you and Sara are like, blonde besties, so it makes sense - wait, does Sara know?"

Felicity shook her head. She wasn't looking forward to that.

"Roy, you are just as much a part of this team as anyone, do you understand that? I wanted to tell _all_ of you. I thought about going to Oliver first, just because he always seems to know what to say, but…" she trailed off with a shrug. After all, Oliver wasn't the one that was there with her now. "At first I didn't tell because I thought I should wait for more tests. The first entire week, I was convinced someone was going to tell me that they made a mistake, and that I really just had mono or something. But then they figured it out, and I don't know...I had to do some other stuff first, and I just thought I should only tell you guys once I knew what my treatment was gonna be."

"So you haven't started any like, chemotherapy or whatever?"

"No, not yet. But it will be soon. They really want to get that going."

"Why haven't you started yet? I mean, I feel like a month of knowing is a long time. Shouldn't they have done something?"

"I had to...do stuff." She felt the tips of her ears flush. _Crap_.

"Like what? Cryogenically freeze your tissue so that they can clone you later?" At the look on her face, "I was kidding!"

"Not for cloning, you moron, but just my eggs. And it is a totally common thing that people do before undergoing chemotherapy, I'll have you know!"

"I knew it!" He crowed, clapping his hands together. Felicity was stunned. Had Roy really known that she was harvesting her eggs? "I _knew_ you had been more hormonal than lately this past week. It was last week, right?

"I have not been more hormonal!"

"Oh, please! You yelled at Oliver for 'making fun' of me!"

"I did not!"

"Yes, you did! It was right after you cried at that video of a dog tucking itself into bed."

The giggles snuck up on her, until she was holding her stomach and laughing harder than she remembered doing so in a long time.

"Okay, _maybe_ I was a bit on the ridiculous side."

"Yeah," he laughed along with her. "_Maybe_."

The conversation eased up for a while, reminiscing over Felicity's bouts of hormone induced craziness and Roy's paranoid fear of radiation poisoning. She hadn't realized that it would be possible to have a conversation like this with someone who knew about her sickness. She had thought it would always be doom and gloom and misery, conversations laden with serious looks and painful topics. She was surprised to find she didn't mind it when Roy directed the conversation back to her cancer. He was interested, yes, maybe even a little afraid for her, but he was mostly curious. No one this close to him had ever gone through something like this.

"So what uh, happens next?"

"For me? Well, I'm kind of just waiting for whatever that scan told me today. Then they'll let me know. I have to have a pretty big surgery soon."

"Why?"

"Gotta take out my spleen and anything else that's infected. I'm not looking forward to that. And then after that, we start the chemotherapy stuff. That's when things start getting fun, I assume."

"Will you let me know when the surgery is? I can give you a ride, if you want." He flashed a huge smile. "No day job and all that."

"I will definitely let you know. It might be this week, I'm not sure. And between you, Detective Lance, and Dig, I doubt I will ever be late for an appointment ever." She bit her lip. "Well, maybe not Dig."

"He'll come around. He's just - and Oliver, too - they're just scared. I don't think they're really mad."

"Tell that to my monitors."

"I mean, just think about it. The biggest threat to your life to date, well okay, maybe not including that Count thing, but still, a pretty big deal. And Oliver can't even shoot it? He's got to be freaking out."

She hadn't really thought about it like that. This was the first time in a long time where no one could help her. They might still be a team, but Felicity was on her own in this fight for her life.

"Hey, that's not what I meant." Roy drew her out of her musings. "I didn't mean that you're the only one that has to fight this. I mean, physically, maybe. But Dig will be there to stand guard and growl at people, and Oliver will throw money at it, and Thea will probably buy you a whole new 'cancer wardrobe.' So you're not _alone_."

"And what are you going to be doing?"

"I'm going to be making sure that no one gets radiation poisoning."

"Thanks, Roy. For everything." She let herself relax and rest her head on his shoulder, her feet tucked under her.

"You promise you're not still radioactive, right?"

* * *

**NOTE - I will begin posting my companion series to this story, an Oliver-centric group of one-shots, for when I think his side needs a bit more explaining and I feel like I can't do so within Blue Skies without interrupting the writing flow. I would anticipate that to be up around Tuesday or Wednesday; it is titled For Darker Days and the FIRST CHAPTER is seeing and feeling Oliver get the news and where he disappears to afterwards. So if you were wondering why I didn't focus more on him in this chapter, it is because there was far too much going on for him and he deserves his own chapter. Thanks for reading! **


	10. Which Dummy?

**A/N: Thank you all so SO so much for all of the kind, beautiful words and thoughts you've shared for this story and For Darker Days. I know I haven't responded individually in a while but I will, I promise! I get a bit alfksjdgsdg when I read what everyone has to say though. It means a lot.**

**Here is the next installment. There is some Dig talking/wisdom, some Oliver angst, and some UST that I think everyone could use right now in this bummer of a story. After this will be another foray into Oliver's life in For Darker Days, but don't expect that with every chapter! I have about 25 chapters of this written and only 7 or 8 companion one shots, so it's definitely not equal.**

**I hope you love this story as much as I do. Thank you!**

* * *

"He's not coming in today."

John Diggle surprised her yet again the next morning at the lair as she stared hopelessly at Oliver's vacant office. She wasn't surprised that he wasn't coming in, but she had still hoped. She hadn't come up with a great speech yet, or a rousing apology that would win him over completely, but she just wanted to _see_ him. To touch him and to feel him and even if he was going to yell at her some more, she thought she could handle it because it was Oliver and if he was yelling at her that meant that he was _there_ and alive and real and she really needed him to be real right now when everything else in her life felt so fake.

"Oh." She felt awkward now, especially since she still didn't know what to say to Dig. "Did he send you here to babysit me? Because you really don't need to. I don't need a bodyguard or a driver today, I promise."

"No, I'm off today too. And so are you, as his EA." He cleared his throat. "So what are you going to do today?"

She hadn't anticipated being off from work and the prospect, for the first time, wasn't appealing.

"I'm gonna...schedule some stuff, I guess?" It sounded paper thin to her ears as well; she now knew how well John Diggle saw through her bullshit, and she sagged with that knowledge. Might as well stop lying to all of her friends, assuming they still wanted to be her friends. "That's not true. I have Oliver scheduled out to the minute for the next few months. I um…I'm waiting for a phone call, I guess. I thought being here would help keep my mind off of it. Even with CEO of Broody Incorporated here. But I guess since he's off, I'll just...wait."

"You mind if I wait too?"

"I thought you were off today?"

"As a bodyguard and driver, yes. But I don't have the luxury of taking a day off from caring about you, Felicity, so I thought now was a good a time as any for you to tell me what's going on. Everything that's going on."

Okay, so he was clearly not 100% over it, but he was at least willing to talk to her and that was more than Oliver was giving her.

"Come on," he nodded towards the elevators. "Sitting here all day isn't going to help you. Let's go get some coffee or something."

Her body was practically vibrating from all the coffee she had imbibed with Detective Lance that morning, having needed something to do as he recounted Oliver's adventure at the precinct the night before. She had accidentally drank four cups.

"Maybe decaf for me."

* * *

He listened patiently as Felicity talked for about forty minutes without stopping. He didn't ask any questions, didn't interrupt her, just sat in front of her, stoically as always, taking in every word she said. Afterwards he had some questions, but she was surprised with how specific they were. Apparently his mom had gone through breast cancer a while back, and while the experiences were bound to be wildly different, it had given him an unique perspective on illness as a whole.

"So, this call will tell you when this surgery is supposed to be?"

She nodded. "And then, probably as soon as I'm better from that, they'll start chemo." She looked as if she had startled herself.

"What is it?"

"That's the first time I've said that word out loud. Like that, I mean. _Chemo_. It sounds so...tawdry. Like I'm on an episode of Grey's Anatomy or something. Not to mention, did you hear how casually I said it? Like it wasn't a big deal?" She picked apart her muffin some more, having already destroyed it beyond recognition. "Who am I anymore?"

"Still the same Felicity, if that diatribe was any indication." He swirled his stirrer around in his coffee before meeting her eyes again. "You know why I was - am - upset, right, Felicity?"

"I really am sorry I didn't tell you sooner, Dig. I just didn't know how. And then last night really blew up in my face for me." She shook her head, more at herself than anything. "What was I supposed to do? Just casually slip it into conversation? 'Here are those financials and also, hey, by the way, I have cancer.'"

"Yes, Felicity. That's exactly what you do. There's not a _good_ way to tell someone this, which I hope you've learned by now. There's not a right way, or a good way, or a way to lessen the blow. But lying to us...that was a dumb move. We need all the information we can get if we are going to protect you, you understand that?"

"You can't protect me from this, John. You can't try and take the bullet for me this time. Or the chemo for me, or whatever. I don't think they have a really suitable idiom for this kind of situation."

"But we can _help_. And that's what you're going to need to learn to accept. I can't take your medicine, or have surgery for you, but I can be there. I can pick you up from the hospital. I can make sure you take your Tylenol on schedule, and don't give me that look, I've known you were on it since you started taking it after the first doctor's appointment. Don't get me wrong. I would if I could. If I could have your chemotherapy, I would. If I could have this illness, I would, and don't think for a second that Oliver wouldn't too. We care about you. But you can't shut us out again. Not now."

"Okay," she responded, soft but sure. "Okay," she repeated. "I won't. But you're going to have to work something out with Detective Lance. He has this thing with Tylenol. Really likes to be the one to dole it out."

"I'm sure we can work something out."

"That's what you think. He's wily. And he plays it off like he's just this old guy with a heart condition that carries a gun but seriously, he-"

"He what?" Dig wasn't particularly invested in hearing about the detective, but Felicity's eyes were finally losing some of their shadows, and he wanted to keep her talking about anything that kept them at bay.

Felicity pulled out her phone. It was the hospital calling.

* * *

She hadn't bothered to even try and get Dig to not come with her to her appointment. She was already tired and she didn't want to waste her breath on a fight that she could never win. He was being respectful though, not pushing her to talk and not asking any unnecessary questions. He had actually only asked her one as they got into his car.

"Do I need to call Detective Lance?"

"Huh?" She replied, eloquently as ever.

"The detective. Does he need to be here with you for this too?"

"Oh, no. I'll just tell him whenever it's supposed to be." She buckled her seatbelt and took in her surroundings. "I've never sat up here with you. It's nice. Roomy."

"Roomy enough that you're willing to sit up here with me instead of in the back with Oliver?"

"Weeeeeell…"

"That's what I thought. And I'm sure the backseat holds _no_ other benefits, does it?"

She was grateful when he turned on the radio, but she still kind of wanted to punch that smug smile off of his face.

* * *

As grateful as she was for Dig's presence, it did highlight the lack of Oliver next to her as well. She hadn't missed him at her other appointments - hadn't allowed herself to. But with Dig in the seat next to her, it was impossible for her to not think about what it would be like with Oliver sitting next to her on the other side, holding her hand and trying not to show any outward signs of her digging her nails into his palm.

The office they were in was much more opulent than Dr. Munroe's had been, and on a much higher floor as well. She didn't catch the name on the plaque outside the door, but she highly doubted that Dr. Fox had this kind of set up. The office was practically the size of the lair.

"Felicity, its nice to see you again. This is Dr. Ling, Head of Oncology here at Starling General." Dr. Fox greeted them as they walked into the room and introduced them to an older Asian woman with kind eyes and a firm mouth. "I'm glad to see you're not alone today. Is this your husband?"

She almost choked on her tongue rushing to correct him. Dig remained silent, his eyes smiling despite his serious face.

"Miss Smoak," Dr. Ling started. "I just want to reassure you that while I will be overseeing your treatment, Dr. Fox will still be your primary oncologist. There will be no changes to your treatment or your primary doctors."

Interestingly enough, Dr. Fox looked more relieved than Felicity.

"I'm sorry, is there something wrong with me? Besides the cancer part? Or is there something wrong with the cancer? Has something changed?"

"Of course not, dear. As far as I know, nothing in your diagnosis has changed in the last week or so." She looked to Dr. Fox for confirmation.

"I just don't understand why you're interested then. Not that I'm not appreciative! I just, everything I read said that my cancer is kind of one of the boring ones."

"While I don't believe any cancer is boring - job requirement, unfortunately - I should reassure you that your case hasn't changed at all. My vested interest in your care here is nothing more than a guarantee that you are receiving the best care possible."

It was a diplomatic answer, if not very straightforward. And if she had been anyone else, Felicity probably would have let it go. But she wasn't anyone else, and this wasn't anyone else's cancer, and she knew exactly who had gotten the _Head of Oncology_ involved.

"I'm going to kill him," she muttered darkly.

"I'm sorry?" Dr. Ling's eyes widened in alarm.

"Oliver Queen. He had something to do with your involvement, didn't he?"

"Mr. Queen did contact the hospital and explained the sensitive nature of your case, yes." _Sensitive nature?_ What about her was particularly sensitive? Except for that part on her neck but she really hoped Oliver hadn't shared that tidbit with the hospital. "We are working with him and his security team to guarantee you not only top of the line care here, but privacy and protection as well."

Felicity cast an accusing glare at Dig.

"Hey, I had nothing to do with this. I've been with you all morning."

"A likely story, John Diggle." She turned back to Dr. Ling. "Doctor, those precautions really aren't necessary. In fact, I'd almost prefer it if I were just handling my treatment on a one-on-one basis with Dr. Fox. I would hate to waste your time."

"The Queen family is a very large proponent to this hospital, Miss Smoak. It truly is no trouble. Now Mr. Queen has also been able to secure a world-class surgeon for your procedure this week as well."

"Of course he did."

"The surgeon will be flying in tomorrow afternoon, so you are scheduled to check in to inpatient services at 7am on Friday morning..."

Felicity sincerely hoped that Dig was paying more attention than she was at that point, because all she could think of was how badly she was going to kick Oliver Queen's ass.

She waited until they were maybe five steps outside of the hospital.

"Where is he?"

Dig didn't even try and pretend that he didn't know what she was talking about. "The lair."

"Then that's where we're going."

* * *

As they walked across the parking lot to get to the entrance to the lair, Dig actually had to hold back a comment about Felicity being so out of shape. A month ago he wouldn't have hesitated to tease her for her puffing breaths and slow gait, but now all he could do was offer his arm as assistance, which she promptly batted away.

"Oliver Queen, you have a lot of nerve!" He hadn't entered her field of vision yet, but she could hear the distinct sound of taped knuckles hitting a dummy that could only come from the precision force of Oliver. "If you think you can just storm away and then try and control my entire life without ever having to talk to me, you are sorely mistaken!"

She rounded the corner to see the training mats and was momentarily happy when she saw that he had stopped working out, but it was quickly replaced with something else as she took in his appearance. His knuckles, while taped, were dripping a slow, steady stream of blood. His body was covered in sweat that he didn't usually get from just hitting a dummy - and Felicity was somewhat of an expert in all sweaty Oliver activities - so she knew he had to have been there for a long while. Finally, his eyes, staring just below her neck, refusing to meet her's, looked more than a little lost.

She decided to fix the easy stuff first and save the hard stuff for last.

"What are you _doing_?" She grabbed his hands and while he tried to jerk them away from her at first, she held fast and started to drag him to the med bay. Somehow, Dig had managed to slip away, which she would deal with later.

She was damn frustrated with Oliver. His hands were his tools, his weapons, his _life_ in many situations. He couldn't afford to hurt them just because Felicity gave him some bad news.

"What are you...?" He asked quietly as she unwrapped his hands and sucked in a breath through her teeth, motioning for him to sit on the med bay table. He obliged but was still staring at her with the same curious expression.

"I'm wrapping these up."

"Why? No, you should be the one being taken care of -"

"Yeah, well I can't exactly wrap my bone marrow up so just sit there and shut up while I fix this," she snapped. "What the hell did you do to yourself? This isn't just from the dummy."

"I might've punched a wall."

"You're a real idiot sometimes Oliver, you know that? What would you have done if you had broken your hand? Shot your bow with your teeth?"

"I've done that once, you know," he confided, trying to coax a smile out of her, but she just glared at him.

"Listen, Oliver, I know that you're pissed at me, but this is not the way to handle it, okay? You can't just destroy your hands or...or buy a whole hospital or whatever you did just because you're mad at me."

"They don't really just let you buy hospitals."

"What a fun thing for you to know."

She didn't think any of the bones in his hands were broken, but they were severely swollen so she couldn't be sure. She cleaned the blood off easily enough, wincing for him when she had to use some alcohol pads.

"Sorry, sorry," she muttered, despite how he didn't move an inch.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"The alcohol. Not telling you sooner. Everything." She paused. "Except for yelling at you. I'm not sorry about that, and you really can be an idiot."

"I'm aware." A beat passed. "Why didn't you tell me, Felicity?"

"Would you have told me, Oliver?" She sighed, not looking at him, still diligently working on cleaning out the raw skin on his hands.

"That's not fair and you know it. You would have tracked me down or hacked into my doctor's systems or whatever you do and you would've found out the second I started acting weird. I tried to look you up in the hospital system which you _already_ hacked and I couldn't even find your name in it." Felicity bit her lip. "Which of course you know about because you're the one that hid your records, aren't you?"

"Just be lucky I'm not yelling at you about my monitors right now." Her monitors which had been swept up, courtesy of Roy, and were replaced with a lone 17" monitor that made her heart hurt.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was soft, pleading. She put down the wipe that was in her hands and took a deep breath, but still didn't look up until his hand gently cupped her chin and forced her to meet his eyes.

"If I told you...it made it all so real."

"Real?" He prodded when she didn't immediately continue.

"I spent the last month pretending that I wasn't sick. Going to work, coming here, it was like nothing had changed at all. If I made myself busy enough then I didn't think about giving myself injections every day, or how I can't climb a flight of stairs without getting winded. My whole life is going to change soon, Oliver. I just wanted this..._us_ to stay the same for as long as I could."

"It isn't _going_ to change, Felicity. It _has_ changed. You lying to me is a change. You going to the doctor's all the time is a change. You can't just pretend this isn't happening! I need to know what's going on so that I can protect you, do you understand that?"

"You can't protect me from this, Oliver." The conversation was eerily similar to the one she had with Dig that morning. Men and their complexes, she assumed. At least Roy wanted to protect her from radiation beams. That was something a bit more tangible than whatever Dig and Oliver wanted to do.

His voice was low and strained and she noticed a barely detectable quiver to his jaw. "Watch me."

She fought a smile and focused on the arduous process of wrapping up his mangled hands, careful to mind the antiseptic ointment that she had spread gently over his knuckles.

"Are you afraid?"

She mulled the question over in her head before answering. The truth was that she was afraid of every minute of every day now. Time seemed to be her enemy and her best friend. With every second that ticked by she was getting sicker and sicker, her cells mutating and dividing and conquering who knows what in her body. At the same time, time might have saved her. They said they caught it early, considering how aggressive it was. Time had been kind to her in that regard.

And then time was the only thing separating her and the treatment. The treatments that would change everything in her life: her job was going to be postponed, Team Arrow was going to be down a hacker for a while, her appearance was going to change, and she didn't even want to _think_ about the effect it would inevitably have on her emotional state. As much as she hated time at that moment, she also wanted to savor it. She wanted to hold on to these few hours before everything began. Oliver might have been right that everything already had changed, but there was a difference between knowing it and witnessing first hand. Which was probably why her response to him was so blase.

"Well, I'm certainly not afraid of needles anymore. Well, that's a lie. I am. I just understand that they're a necessary evil at this point. Look at this," she untucked her shirt from her high waisted skirt and lifted it up, unaware of his eyes darkening and his pulse quickening. She showed her belly where you could still see faint marks from the hormone injections of the last two weeks. "My stomach was like a pincushion for a while. And I'm pretty sure it's going to get worse."

Oliver couldn't help himself, and he reached out a tentative hand, his thumb brushing against a dark mark as his fingers curled around her rib cage. Suddenly Felicity became _very _aware of the position she was in with him but couldn't bring herself to move.

"These are from...treatment?"

"Not exactly." Her shirt slipped from her fingers, falling back down, but Oliver's hand remained, burning hot into her ribcage. His eyes were questioning and while she knew she had nothing to be embarrassed about, it was also a bit strange to talk about something so intimate with him. "My treatment...chemotherapy and radiation stuff, there's a chance it could mess some things up. I mean, I don't even know if I want to have kids or if that's a good idea given everything that I do or whatever, but I just wanted the option. And it's not foolproof. I could be perfectly fine after radiation. All my stuff could be in working order. Or I could not. I mean, it might not even work, and I might never go into remission. But if it does, there's always adoption and surrogates too and a lot of other stuff I haven't considered because it seems like stuff like that will be light years away and I don't even have a _boyfriend_ right now, but-"

"Felicity."

"Sorry."

"The treatment is going to work. And no matter what, I think you're going to be a great mom someday. I know how much you hate needles." Again, his thumb did a brief swipe over her stomach and she felt her heart leap in her chest. This could _not_ be good for her health. He seemed content to let her sidestep the original question regarding her fear, but there was no way he was going to let the topic slide forever.

"Needles seem to be a way of life with these people. Speaking of which, are you going to apologize for trying to take over my hospital?"

"No." He slipped his hand out from under her shirt, but the heat remained. Her ribs were tingling.

"What do you mean, no?"

"I'm not sorry for trying to help. I'm sorry if you think I went behind your back, but this is how I help. I get you the best doctors and the best surgeons and a private room. I get you away from the media."

"The media? Have I suddenly become famous or - or Oliver. _Oliver_. You can't be seen always at the hospital. The shareholders finally have confidence in you! You're doing well and so is QC. Word gets out that you're at the hospital all the time and there will be doubts. Your mother will kill me."

"My mother will have some compassion."

"Have you _met _your mother?"

"Once or twice," he deadpanned. "Felicity, it's not up for debate if I'll see you at the hospital, you realize that right?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose, a move that Oliver had done so many times before. He had never seen it reflected on her and he was surprised by how just seeing that simple gesture on her made his heart ache. He was the one that was supposed to feel the pressure. He was the one that was supposed to have things weighing on his shoulders so heavily. It was never supposed to be her.

His bandaged hands clumsily tugged her hips to him, sitting on the medbay table. Her forehead fell against his sternum and she concentrated on her breathing in and out and staying calm.

"There's no way for this to work, Oliver," she told his stomach. "You say nothing and they'll think you're going to the hospital for your own reasons. You say you're visiting your EA, which, by the way, I don't really want to be out there, and they will all think you're having some sort of sordid affair with me. You can't have it both ways, being a Fortune 500 CEO and a good friend. And I'm not going to make you choose."

She felt the weight of the words after they left her mouth. She meant what she said; she wasn't going to make him choose between her and his family's name, his family's business. But saying it aloud reinforced the fact that this was something she might not be able to do with Oliver Queen by her side 24/7, and she hated the fact that just that thought affected her so much.

"I'm going to work it all out, Felicity Smoak. Just wait and see."

"Famous last words," Dig joked as he walked back into the lair. "Are you two still yelling at each other or can we go get burgers?"

"I am a little hungry," Felicity confessed.

"That's because you ripped your muffin apart this morning instead of eating it. C'mon, Big Belly. Oliver's treat."

"Told you," Felicity teased as she grabbed her purse. "Always your treat. Let's go see if you can even pick up a burger with your hands right now. And you can tell us who won the fight between you and the dummy."

"Which dummy?" Dig wondered, but Oliver only shared a small, special smile with Felicity. He wanted nothing more than to tell her everything she wanted to know at that moment.

* * *

**Oh, I know. There are so many more things that need to be said between Oliver and Felicity, but its not like I was going to keep them apart for that long. Trust me when I say there is so much more to come!**


	11. Grenades

**A/N: Hope you like this! Things are moving along! I have so many feels about things that are coming up! **

**Just a reminder if you're interested in Oliver's view on some things, I have a companion series called For Darker Days that you can go check out and Follow if you'd like! And once again, don't get used to this, but there will be another update to that after this chapter, since there is just SO much to see from Oliver's eyes during this critical stage!**

**Thanks! I think you are all wonderful!**

* * *

Friday morning came way too quickly for Felicity Smoak's liking. She felt like the walking dead at 6 a.m. when the doorbell rang, signifying that Dig had come to pick her up.

She admitted to herself that it was possible she had overdone it the day before. The BC - Before Cancer - day that she had wanted, with absolutely no mention of cancer and activities of her choice. She was so focused on having a good time - and the fact that Oliver Queen was _mini-golfing_ with her - that she refused to slow down or pause for anything.

Despite the horrible way that everyone found out, she was grateful that she wasn't alone in this anymore. Not to mention the little things that kept reminding her that she could only benefit from having the support structure she did. Dig had urged her to meet with a lawyer, which she had the previous morning, just to simply get things in order in case the worst happened. She hated thinking like that and told him so, but he insisted that just because she didn't want to think about it didn't mean it couldn't happen. It was one of those things she probably never would have thought of herself, but was grateful that she did it. She felt lighter somehow, as if it was one less thing on her plate.

Between that and the afternoon of fun she had insisted on, plus a dinner at Table Salt with Oliver, Dig, and Roy (Detective Lance had begged her to not make him come), and she felt like she had only gotten 5 minutes of sleep, not 6 hours.

She opened the door to find Dig and Oliver standing there on her step. If she didn't know better, she could have sworn she saw them subtly elbowing each other in an effort to be first at her door.

"Hi guys."

While she felt anything but, Oliver couldn't help but to see Felicity as beautiful in that moment. She was wearing loose black yoga pants and a plain purple v-neck tshirt, her hair down and looking slightly fluffy (she hadn't had time to straighten it completely) and her glasses were resting on the tip of her nose. She looked tired, yes, but also incredible, all at once.

"I just have to go and get my bag that I packed from my room-"

"I'll get it!" The two men spoke in tandem, and both tried to step into her living room at the same time. She couldn't decide whether to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, or cry because everything she didn't want happening - them treating her differently, her independence slowly fading away - was suddenly coming to pass.

"_Or_ I will get it myself from my room and you two will stay here." Her tone didn't really leave much room for argument, and Oliver snapped his mouth shut and Dig nodded once. Felicity grinned once she was out of their sight in the hallway. Things were changing, yeah, but she could get used to them listening to her like this.

* * *

"Holy shit."

Detective Lance took the words right out of her mouth when they were shown to what would be Felicity's private room in the hospital whenever she had to do inpatient stays. The detective had met them in the waiting room, kissing Felicity on the cheek with a squeeze of her hand and grumbling a hello to Oliver and Dig, much to their consternation. After being checked in, a nurse had arrived to take them up to what Felicity had dubbed her 'new bedroom.' Except it was about three times the size of her current bedroom and had a much nicer TV.

She opted to sigh heavily instead of glare at Oliver; nothing she said at this point was going to change the situation, so she might as well get used to it. The room had a private full bath attached to it in addition to a fairly large couch, a table with four chairs around it, and what looked to be a folded up bed in the corner. There was a private waiting room down the hall as well, but Felicity couldn't figure out for the life of her who would choose to be out there. Everyone she knew in Starling could probably fit comfortably in this room.

She wandered to the window and pulled the curtains to the side and gasped. They were on a high floor, unsurprisingly, and the view of Starling was gorgeous as the sun rose over the high-rises to the east. The window itself took up the majority of the outside wall, and Dig went ahead and did her the favor of opening the curtains completely. Vibrant oranges and pinks chased away the dark blue of night and danced along the walls, bathing the room in a dim but beautiful glow.

"Holy shit," she echoed.

* * *

Once she got over the awkwardness of changing into a hospital gown in the bathroom and scooting to the bed so that no one would catch a glimpse of her plain yellow cotton panties through the gown, Felicity took a look around the room. Detective Lance was on the couch, a stack of magazines that hadn't been in the room previously next to him. He was flipping through the first one casually and she felt her heart swell at the sight of him. He had taken a whole day off to be here with her, despite the fact that she would be sedated for most of the day and not exactly the best company after that. Dig stood at the door, conversing quietly with two other men in suits who she presumed to be either her or Oliver's security detail. And Oliver had pulled a chair up next to the bed and had taken up vigil there, content to simply sit and stare at her with warm eyes.

"I know I said I thought scars were cool, but I don't think these are going to count," she joked weakly to him.

"They count."

"I'm not exactly fighting off gang members or evil villains."

"You're fighting for your life though. And these scars will be proof that you fought and that you won." He paused, wondering if it was the correct time for a joke. "If it helps, we can tell people it was a grenade."

The smile that took over Felicity's face let him know that he made the right choice.

"Promise?"

"I'm not promising they'll believe us, but we can try it out."

She wasn't sure what she preferred more - Oliver's attempt at humor, actually making her laugh, or the fact that he referred to them as an 'us' when he referenced the future. It just further solidified it in her mind that he wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon. He was in this with her.

"Knock knock," a voice from the door sounded and Felicity looked up to see a suited man - she thought his name might be Marcus - letting in Dr. Fox and a nurse to her room.

The nurse busied herself instantly, setting up the IV poles and taking her vitals, while Dr. Fox situated himself in the chair on the other side of her bed.

"Dr. Fox, I believe you've met Detective Lance and John Diggle before, but this is Oliver Queen." If Oliver squeezed his hand a bit tighter than he should have whilst shaking it, the good doctor didn't let on. He greeted everyone genially before taking a more serious approach with Felicity.

"We just have a few more things to hash out before we get you down to surgery." Felicity made the mistake of looking over to where the nurse was positioning her IV and had to fought the urge to gag at the sight of a needle in her skin. "That, actually, is one of the things we need to talk about."

"My IV?"

"Your reaction to the IV. Chemotherapy is going to make you feel nauseous on its own, and I don't really want you to help it along with your aversion to needles. Have you made a decision yet, regarding your options?"

She shook her head. She honestly hadn't, and she didn't like thinking about any of the options. They all made her feel queasy.

"What are the options…?" Oliver looked between her and the doctor, and Felicity nodded to let Dr. Fox know that it was okay to elaborate.

He quickly described the two choices she had in order to get her chemotherapy and blood drawn out of other veins in her body, not just her arms. He described the medicine as being very harsh on the smaller nerves and veins in the hand and arm, so they wanted to place either a central line - a line that connected a large vein in her chest, but left the tubing outside the body - or an implantable port - a receptacle under the skin connected to the same large vein - in order to prevent any vein damage that could be avoided. Felicity looked green at both prospects. The port would still involve needle sticks, but topical numbing solution to eliminate any pain, but the line would have tubes running in and out of her body at all times. There were no good options.

"Get the port, kid," Detective Lance commented from his place on the couch. "What? She's better with the pain than she is with seeing someone stick a needle in her. The port will be what, on her chest? She'll barely be able to see it. Get the port."

The detective was right; it was usually the visual of a needle going under her skin that made her feel sick, and it sounded like she would always see a little bit of that with the central lines. Plus, having to always have someone around to help flush it for her to keep it clean would only hamper any sense of independence she wanted to maintain.

"But I'll be able to see it, right? Under my skin?"

"It'll look a bit like a raised quarter but yes, you'll be able to see it."

"Kid."

Oliver felt more than a little out of place, unable to give any advice to Felicity while Lance was able to not only tell her which she should get, but make a convincing argument as well.

"I'm going to look like Frankenstein anyways," she muttered. "Let's do the port thing."

The doctor noted that on her chart and excused himself to prepare, assuring her that it wouldn't be much longer before she was whisked away.

"Hey, look at it this way," Oliver murmured, trying to lighten up the darkness that had spread across her face. "We can just tell people that it's part of the grenade under your skin."

He was successful at making her smile, and he held on to that feeling and decided to tell her some stories behind some of his scars. He tried to keep the stories light, never expanding on anything too deep, and always mindful of the listening ear of Detective Lance. Before he knew it, the nurse was coming in and introducing her to her anesthesiologist and getting ready to take her away. Her hand gripped his tightly and for the first time that morning, she didn't look tired or put out with the entire situation - she looked scared.

"Hey, we're gonna be right here when you get back, okay?" Oliver's thumb rhythmically stroked her knuckles, encouraging her to calm down. "Roy will be here too, and maybe even Thea if that's okay. We haven't told her yet, but you know she'd like to be here."

"You can tell her if you want. Could you...hold off on telling your mom?"

"Anything you want." He leaned down and brushed a kiss across her forehead and she had to blink fast to ensure that no tears fell out of her eyes.

"Go give 'em hell, Felicity," Dig spoke gruffly. "See you on the other side."

"I don't know why they're telling you to go fight anything," Lance said with a wry smile. "From where I'm sitting it looks like you get to take a nice long nap and then get pumped with morphine."

Felicity gave a watery laugh at that, nodding at the detective. Unspoken words between the two of them gave her the courage to give Oliver's hand one last squeeze. She could do this. She didn't have much of a choice, but she could still do it. No matter what.

* * *

They were told that it would be a 5-6 hour procedure, so the men settled in to wait. Detective Lance and his stack of magazines opted to relax silently on the couch, while Dig and Oliver discussed various aspects of the business in hushed tones by Felicity's empty bed.

Oliver felt like he was constantly on the phone, coordinating between the QC lawyers and Walter still, not to mention rescheduling meetings that he knew he wasn't going to make. He would be available at QC in the coming weeks, yes, but definitely not until Felicity had begun her treatments. On the one hand, he was happy for the distraction of taking calls and signing his position over to Walter, but other times he would look up, momentarily forgetting where he was. It was then that the reality of the situation would hit him hard and he would have to remind himself to breathe. He knew that he was making the right decision to stay with Felicity during all of this, that much had become clear to him.

After about 3 hours, the door crept open and Roy Harper stood in the doorway, peering inside of the room.

"This place is bigger than my apartment."

"Purse snatching business isn't keeping you in the lap of luxury?" Detective Lance inquired, but there was a small smile on his face, and Roy didn't take it to heart, just rolling his eyes at the older man.

"Tell your sister to give me a raise, man." Roy looked out the window. "This place is nice."

"This place probably cost more than Verdant. And it's also a hospital room."

Roy shrugged. "I think my place used to be a meth lab, but its still home. How long has Blondie been in surgery?"

"Three...almost four hours," Dig confirmed. "We've got at least another hour and a half, if not more."

"That's cool." Roy took out a book (titled _Ablaze: The Story of the Heroes and the Victims of Chernobyl_) and a tennis ball, and settled in on the couch, two cushions away from Lance. He started to bounce the ball against the couch, the dull noise echoing around the room.

"On that note," Oliver stood, grabbing his jacket. "Is Thea at the club?"

"Yeah, she was there when I left."

"I'm going to go tell her about Felicity. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"You sure, man?" Roy sat on the edge of the couch. "I could tell her if you wanted me to."

Oliver considered that briefly before dismissing his offer. "I think this is something I have to do. But thanks, kid." Dig had stood as well, but Oliver assured him that he would go by himself. If something detained him, he needed Dig to be there for Felicity. He couldn't explain why, couldn't make his mouth form the words that even his brain had a hard time formulating, but he just knew that Dig being here was what he needed to stay calm.

* * *

True to his word, Oliver was back only an hour later, and there had been no update on Felicity. He looked a little shaken, like the conversation had taken a toll on him, but a small shake of his head told Dig that he wasn't up for talking about it.

Two hours after that, and Oliver was about to lose his mind.

"Sit down, kid, you're making me nervous."

Lance wasn't in any better shape than Oliver, but the CEO's pacing across the room, from the window to the door, was grating on his frayed nerves. Roy, who was sitting on the floor now, his back resting against the window, couldn't help but to smile and shake his head.

"What?" Oliver selfishly hoped that Roy would say something crude and tactless that he could get angry at.

"Nothing. It's just nice to see someone else be called 'kid' for a change."

It wasn't the response Oliver had hoped for, but he still opened his mouth to challenge the boy when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder.

"Let's take a walk," Dig commanded in his soft but firm voice. He led him out of the room and down the hall, pausing in the vacant waiting room. They still had a clear view of the door and the hall, should anyone come with news of Felicity.

"Why haven't they told us anything?" Oliver asked plainly. He didn't even try to hide his anxiety, he just knew that he needed to know _something_. Anything. "It's been over 7 hours. They said _maybe_ 6."

"I don't know, man, but you prowling around the room and looking like you're going to arrow the shift nurses isn't helping anything, and it's certainly not going to get Felicity out of surgery sooner. So just hold it together for a little while longer."

"I feel like…" He couldn't find the words again, a frustratingly common theme for Oliver that day.

"I know. Me too."

Oliver didn't doubt that the large man in front of him was similarly nervous and scared for Felicity. But it was this something else, this new feeling that had been burgeoning in his chest all day that he found himself hoping Dig didn't share with him.

It was a 'what if' type of feeling, which Oliver actively avoided in any aspect of his life. He lived his life from one day to the next, guided by his morals and his mission, and, more recently, Diggle and Felicity and Sara and Roy. He didn't - couldn't - focus on regrets, because they would only bog him down and turn him into something that he didn't want to be. But this 'what if' had been bothering him all day, ever since they took Felicity away from him that morning.

What if he never got a chance to tell Felicity all of the things that he had assumed he would have time to tell her? He never told her how proud he was of her, or how amazing he thought she was, or how she had truly saved him in more ways than he thought he deserved or even needed. And now, approaching 8 hours later, and he could only think about all these words he never said and she never got to listen to. And he thought of all the words she never said. too. All the nonsensical babbling and innuendos and pithy jokes that he hadn't heard yet - those were the things he craved. That was what he needed. He needed Felicity in that moment, and there was nothing he could do to get her, and it was driving him mad.

He spent another twenty minutes in the waiting room with Dig, calming his own thoughts and fears. It was only when he saw the familiar shape of Dr. Fox walking off the elevator at the far end of the hall that he moved, his long legs carrying him to the door of Felicity's room almost instantly. He held the door open for the doctor, whose face was giving nothing away. All the anxiety he had worked so hard to push aside came rushing back at once. This was it. This was the first hurdle in getting Felicity better. As Dr. Fox opened his mouth to speak, Oliver was only slightly aware of how close the four men in the room had gotten, crowding around the doctor, desperate to hear the news he brought.


	12. Words With Friends

**A/N: Here we go! Hope you enjoy this and that it doesn't get too science-y. Also, I hope this chapter answers (and then asks again!) some questions that I know I've been receiving but have been hesitant to respond to because I didn't want to give anything away. Read on! :)**

* * *

"The surgery was a success."

It was impossible not to feel the tension instantly lessen in the air. Detective Lance let out a huge breath of air, Roy actually stood and pumped his fist, a Felicity gesture to be sure, Dig nodded along emphatically with the doctor, and Oliver just stood still, closing his eyes. It was okay. She was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

"Dr. Lanoir, the surgeon you managed to get from France, did an excellent job. His English is a bit spotty, so I'm up here to give you the brief overview. Mr. Queen, you are listed here as Ms. Smoak's health care proxy, so is there somewhere we could go to discuss her surgery privately?"

"You must be some employer, Queen," Detective Lance muttered.

"Everyone here is entitled to hear about Felicity," Oliver assured the doctor. "And you telling them just guarantees that I don't forget anything."

"Alright, well, there were a lot more diseased nodes in her neck and chest than we anticipated but we feel confident that we got them all, but it did take us quite a bit longer because of that. We just need a few pathology reports to come back, assuring us that we got clear borders and margins, but I don't see that being a problem. Her splenectomy was fine, no issues there, but we did find a tumor on her liver that we had to resect."

"You had to restart her liver? Like a computer?" Roy sounded confused and appalled at the prospect.

"Uh, no," Dr. Fox, shook his head with a smile. "_Resect_. We had to take a small portion of her liver in order to guarantee that the entire tumor was removed. Livers regenerate and she is in great health otherwise, so I don't see that being a problem either. Last but not least, the port was implanted and working great. It went beautifully."

"When can we see her?" Oliver asked instantly.

"She will be observed in the recovery room for another hour. Normally, she'd be there for at least half a day, but since you are paying for this lovely room and a private staff, she'll be transferred here after the initial hour. I have to warn you though that Ms. Smoak has just undergone major surgery. You may be in for a bit of a shock when you see her. She will probably be disoriented and groggy upon waking, and she is hooked up to a morphine pump in addition to other painkillers, antibiotics, and hydration fluids. There will be a lot of tubes and machines."

There was a collective thought in the room that no man in there cared what she looked like, as long as she was alive. The doctor excused himself, leaving the group to process the good news.

"Private staff?"

"Comes with the room," Oliver told the detective. It wasn't as if he had gone out and hired nurses himself, but when you get a private room, you had to pay in order to justify the nurses being pulled off their normal rounds and onto that wing of the hospital. Besides, Oliver felt good knowing that there were going to be a distinct group of nurses and doctors for Felicity. He knew she'd appreciate the stability.

"I totally told her that you were just going to throw money at this," Roy commented as he slouched back against the wall. "I called it."

"Yes, Oliver Queen spending exorbitant amounts of money, who could have seen that coming?" Diggle deadpanned, but the humor was obvious in his voice. He was finally feeling lighthearted enough to give Oliver a hard time, now that they all knew that Felicity was in the clear.

Oliver himself was feeling a lot better too and the slight shove to Diggle's shoulder with a grin made that clear to everyone.

The next hour or so passed surprisingly fast, and by 5pm, nurses had asked the group to vacate her room and wait in the room down the hall in order to situate Felicity.

Fifteen minutes later and the men were allowed to enter the room again, and despite the warning from Dr. Fox, it _was_ still somewhat unnerving to see Felicity lying there. She was attached to so many different machines, many of which Oliver was familiar with, but some not so much. IV poles, SAT monitors, morphine pumps - it all overwhelmed the room and made Felicity look impossibly small. Her neck was covered in Tegaderm dressings and gauze, with only tiny peeks of the incisions that had been made, and a huge bandage covered the area below her right clavicle where the port was implanted with lines and tubes leading to it. Her hair fanned out around her, a golden halo to her pale face, a stark reminder of who she was underneath all the medical dressings.

She looked the same yet so, so different to Oliver. Strong yet fragile, she lay there under a thin cotton sheet, unaware of the effect the sight of her had on the men closest to her. Oliver was the first to move, once again taking up his place to the right of her bed, closest to the window and furthest away from the machines. Detective Lance and Roy settled back on the couch, and Dig surprised everyone and pulled up a chair a few feet from Oliver's.

Not an hour later and Felicity started to stir, a low moan of pain escaping when she tried to shift the wrong way.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, we're here," Oliver rushed to comfort, finding her hand that had escaped from under the covers and grasping it lightly.

"Oliver?" She murmured, clearly not awake yet.

"And Dig. And Roy. And Lance."

"Mmm...glad you're all still here."

"Proud of you, Felicity," Dig spoke up.

"All of you? Promise?" She was fighting the pull of the anesthesia at this point.

"Of course we are," Oliver reassured her. "Get some rest. We'll be here when you wake up."

* * *

Unfortunately, Felicity slept a lot longer and a lot harder than they anticipated, and not everyone could be there the next time she woke up. Roy had excused himself to go to the club at around 9p.m., and Detective Lance left shortly after, knowing that Felicity would kick his ass herself if she knew that he missed another meeting.

It was a little past 11, and Oliver was trying to tell Dig that he didn't have to stay, when Felicity's groggy voice interrupted them.

"Hey, some of us are trying to get some sleep in a medically induced coma over here."

Oliver whipped around, two large steps bringing him right back to the edge of her bed.

"Hey there," he said softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a bus," she said, her eyes still closed.

"Not a great feeling."

She opened one eye slowly, looking at Oliver suspiciously. "You've been hit by a bus?"

"Maybe."

She huffed out a laugh until she realized that she was going to be avoiding doing that all costs until she was healed. She couldn't control the brief cry of pain that it had drawn out of her.

"Are you in pain? Dr. Fox said you should use the morphine pump as often as you need to these first few days."

She ignored him, licking her chapped lips. "What time is it?"

"A little past 11."

Dig held a cup of water with a bent straw to her, silently offering. She nodded and took a few sips, wincing slightly with each swallow.

"You guys should go home. Get some sleep."

"I'm not going anywhere," Oliver told her, his voice firm.

"Dig, go see Lyla," Felicity told him, ignoring Oliver. "Tell her I want to meet her when I'm not under heavy sedation."

She knew that Dig had been seeing his ex-wife for a few months now, but had yet to meet the woman. In times like these, she understood the importance of being with people you loved. People you needed.

Dig nodded once, more than willing to meet the woman's request. He just hadn't wanted to not be there when she woke up again. "I'll be here bright and early tomorrow morning, okay?"

A sleepy smile tilted her lips. "Mmkay. Bye."

With a light kiss to the forehead, Diggle left the pair in silence. Before she could open her mouth again, Oliver cut her off.

"I'm not leaving so don't bother."

"I was going to tell you to use the bed in the corner."

He cast a quick glance to the folded bed in the corner; it was nicer than your standard hospital cot but it didn't look particularly inviting, whether that was by design, or by the fact that it was fifteen feet away from Felicity's side, he wasn't sure.

"Maybe in a bit."

"Just gonna watch me sleep?" Her words were growing heavy, her eyelids following suit. "That's sweepy, Oliver."

"Sweepy?" He gently brushed a few strands of errant hair off of her forehead.

"I mean...sleepy. No, creepy. And sweet. It's those."

"I think _you're_ sleepy," he whispered. "Go to bed, Felicity."

"You stay?" Her eyes were closed and her hand was still on top of his, lying on the edge of her bed.

"I'll always stay," he told the quiet room as her breathing evened out. "I promise."

* * *

"She looks better," Dig commented the next morning. It was around 10 a.m. and while he had texted Oliver earlier that morning, he had taken his time before getting to the hospital after being reassured that Felicity was doing well.

And she did look better, underneath the bandages and hospital gown. Her face had more color and she was lying more relaxed and less stiff, as if she were afraid to hurt herself.

"She's been in and out of it for a while. Had some ice chips and a shake around 7."

Oliver looked up in surprise as Dig dropped a bag in his lap.

"Go shower, man. I'll stay here. I ran into Lance downstairs and he was just getting coffee before heading up."

Oliver didn't necessarily want to leave Felicity's side, but he knew he couldn't monopolize her time, not when there were so many other people who wanted to be by her. He did want a shower though and he conceded without so much a word, making good use of the room's private bath. When he returned, feeling more human and less asleep, Felicity was awake and smiling at something Detective Lance said as he sat by her bed in Oliver's seat.

"This is just like our coffee dates," Felicity said softly.

"Yeah, right. This coffee tastes like crap and I'm the one doing all the talking. This is nothing like that."

"You hate the coffee at the shop," she pointed out.

"Only because it costs me half a car payment every time I go there, not because it tastes bad."

"It doesn't taste like it's made out of gold, which I think for the price, it should," Oliver finally spoke up, interrupting the two. He couldn't stop the warmth from spreading in his chest when he saw the way Felicity's eyes lit up when she saw him. Like he had just made her day or something, when all he had done was come out of the bathroom.

"You love that coffee," Felicity accused before turning to Lance. "He loves that coffee."

"I love any coffee you bring me." The words hung in the air for a moment before another happy Felicity smile graced her face.

"I knew you loved that coffee."

"You seem much better than you were before," Oliver acknowledged.

"I feel better than I did before. This stuff is better than that aspirin Dig gave me once."

Lance gave Dig a quick glare at his muffled laughter but chose not to pursue it.

"For now," Lance mentioned. At Oliver's questioning look, he continued. "Nurse stopped by to take her vitals. Looks like she has her first physio appointment later on this afternoon."

Oliver knew firsthand how hard it could be, moving after serious injuries like Felicity had sustained, but he also knew the value in it. Unfortunately, knowing that didn't lessen the pain at all.

Lance hung around for another hour so before he had a shift at the precinct, and before Felicity knew it, she was being introduced to Steve, her very gay, very fabulous physical therapist.

"Honey, you are not going to love me, but I think I love this room," Steve said with not-so-subtle glances towards both Dig and Oliver. As Felicity watched the slightly embarrassed looks cross their faces, she shook her head slowly.

"I think I might love you, you never know."

"I'm just glad you're the patient and they're not," he told her as he slowly lifted the bed to a more upright position. "How on earth would I remain professional?"

"This is him being professional?" Dig muttered to Oliver. Oliver didn't particularly care about the man's comments, but he did care about the smile that Felicity got every time he made an especially crass remark, and that had convinced him to let Steve - and his comments - stay.

"Any pain?" Steve asked once Felicity was sitting up. She shook her head, but kept her hand lightly on her stomach, not enjoying the faint internal tugging sensation of the wounds being pulled at the shift in position.

She was well aware that physio would probably be the worst part of her days to come, at least for a little while, but she did like Steve and his flamboyant personality. He talked to her continuously and anytime she thought the pain might be too much, he made another comment that broke through the dense fog of hurt and she momentarily forgot what she was doing. But when Steve told her that she was going to have to stand and take a few steps, only to where Oliver's chair was sitting, a few feet away, Felicity shook her head frantically.

"I don't think I can do it," she whispered.

Steve looked to the two gentlemen sitting on the couch, taking in the whole scene. His comments only could take her so far, and he recognized this as a situation which needed more. He raised his eyebrows until both men realized what he was asking and jumped up.

Oliver was the first to get to her, standing in front of where she was sitting, looking down at her.

"You can do it."

She shook her head. "I feel so stupid and weak. I can barely stand, let alone walk. Everything hurts." A lone tear trailed down her face, from pain or frustration, she wasn't sure. "How do you and Dig always just get right up and walk?"

"Hey, hey," Oliver crouched down to her level when it became clear she wasn't going to look up at him. "Dig and I have never had whole organs removed. We've never gone through _anything_ like this. So don't compare what you're going through to us. You're the strong one here, not us."

Dig appeared at the side of her vision, standing in front of the chair that had been her previous goal.

"Stand up and walk to me and give me a hug." A pause. "What, a proud black man isn't allowed to ask for a hug?"

"Girl, if you won't do it, I will," Steve joked.

That was the levity the situation and needed and Felicity wiped her face before setting her sights on Diggle. She finally managed to get her feet underneath her, legs shaking slightly, but still sturdy. With one shuffling footstep after another, she managed to close the three feet distance between her and Dig, who gently enveloped her in his arms, mindful of her tubes and wires. When the shaking in her legs became pronounced, she was gently guided back to her bed.

"That's it?" She asked, surprised when Steve was helping reposition her legs on the bed.

"'_That's it_?'" Steve echoed, looking at her like she was insane. "You just hugged the biggest, blackest teddy bear I've ever seen and almost made me cry. I think we're good for today."

Steve left after a quick wink sent to Oliver, who just shook his head slightly, and soon after Felicity was dead asleep, her chest falling in even rhythms.

"You okay?" Dig asked Oliver, who looked like he was the one who just did extensive physical therapy. He was taking deep, measured breaths, and he had taken to flexing his fingers that itched for a bow underneath them.

"She'll be okay."

"_She'll_ be fine. But you look like you just went three rounds with Malcolm Merlyn."

Just when he thought Oliver wasn't going to respond, he cleared his throat.

"It's uh, harder than I thought." His eyes remained fixed on Felicity's sleeping form. "Watching her hurt like this. Unable to help."

"You helped today," Dig pointed out.

"And when that's not enough?" Oliver turned to look at him. "When I can't just say something and make her feel better?"

"I don't think your words meant a damn to her," he told him frankly. "I think you _being_ here and saying the words meant something to her. _That's_ how you're going to help her."

"It won't always be that easy."

"Maybe not. But you know better than anyone the signs of pushing someone away. And I like to think you know that it's not the right move. So when that time comes, you'll be able to call her on it."

Oliver hoped that it would be that simple.

* * *

Five days after surgery and Oliver and Felicity were alone in her room. She had been getting better with every day and she was more than happy to note that laughing didn't cause the same riotous pain in her abdomen as it had before. She felt more like herself, finally.

"Felicity?" Oliver uncharacteristically broke the silence. She had been tapping along on her tablet, kicking Dig's ass at Words with Friends when she looked up and saw a serious look on Oliver's face. She put her electronics aside and gave him her full attention.

"What's up?"

"I just...I have to ask."

"Aaaaask me what? If this is about _our_ Words with Friends game then no, you really can't use words in other languages and it's not fair that you even want to. You just have to be like the rest of and speak American. Not American. English. Well, not like, Walter's English, but you know. Regular. American English. Which I think is a thing because on some websites you can actually select that as a language."

"Are you sure you don't want to call your mom?"

Well, of all the questions, she hadn't really been anticipating that one coming from Oliver.

Detective Lance had never pressed her on her decision, and aside from briefly mentioning it to Oliver before even being admitted to the hospital, the topic hadn't come up again. She had thought it over a couple of times in her head, but she hadn't come to any real decision. In the true Felicity Smoak way, she simply pushed it to the back of her mind, deciding to deal with it when it couldn't be put off. She hadn't anticipated that time coming so quickly, however.

"Why?"

"Well, you're scheduled to start chemo in a few days, I just thought...even if you don't want her _here_, I'm sure she'd want to know what was happening."

"Once I tell her, she'll _be_ here. There isn't really a way to keep those two things separate."

"We can have security not let her in, if you don't want her to see you."

"Donna Smoak has talked her way around many security situations, trust me. Besides, how would I explain that? 'Sorry mom, I really just don't think I can handle seeing you right now but trust me, I'm fine minus this whole cancer thing.'"

"We might want to word it differently, but I think we could swing it."

"It's just...easier to keep her where she is. And me where I am. And all those miles in between us, between us."

"I just think she'd want to know. And," he rushed to continue, "what are you going to do in a few months if she comes looking for you, or wants to Skype or something?

"Cry? Buy a wig?" Felicity sighed. "It's not that I don't want her to know, but I just don't want _everyone_ to know. And she would tell everyone. She'd post it on her Facebook. She'd start some fundraising campaign for me or something."

"She wouldn't respect your wishes?"

"She wouldn't think of it like that. It wouldn't be a matter of my wishes, it would be a matter of what gets her the most attention. And she wouldn't even mean it like that. To my mom, attention equals good."

"No, I guess you didn't really get that gene," he commented affectionately.

"I didn't get many things from my mom. Except sometimes she talks a lot. There might be a correlation there, I don't know. Do you think I talk a lot?"

"I think you talk just the right amount."

"That's why I know so many more words than you. And why I will beat you at Words with Friends."

* * *

"Oliver, Oliver, you can't just _do_ that! What is wrong with you!"

Detective Lance sprinted the last few steps to the door to Felicity's room the next day, barely sparing her useless security at the door a glance. They clearly were on Oliver's side and if they weren't going to stop him doing, well, whatever he was doing, then the detective would have to.

He flung the door open only to find something completely unexpected.

Felicity was up and out of bed, wrapped in a blanket sitting in a wheelchair that had been pulled up to the table that had been set up. Across from her sat Oliver, smiling a challenging grin at her, and to her left sat Roy with his head in his hand, propped up on his elbow. In between all of them was the board game Scrabble.

"Is everything okay, Detective?" Felicity took in his slightly labored breathing and forceful opening of the door. Oliver had started to stand, half out of his seat, looking for confirmation from Lance if there was any danger. Roy looked as if he was waiting for someone to act first.

"Yeah, everything's fine, I guess." Oliver sat back down at that. "Scrabble?"

"Oliver is a cheater who made me think that he couldn't get Words with Friends to work on his phone. In reality, he just wanted to play this antiquated version so that he could cheat. Like a cheater."

"I don't cheat," he gently reminded her.

"That is not a word!"

"I assure you it is."

"That is not an _English_ word! That's Russian!"

Oliver squinted at her. "Are you sure?"

"What?" She spluttered. "Yes! I'm sure! Roy?"

Roy just shrugged. "I thought it was an English word I just didn't know."

Lance's brief pondering over who would have played the word 'dog' was cut short at that comment.

"You speak Russian now?"

"I've been taking courses," he responded benignly.

"Ok, well, I'm happy for you. But I just came up here to tell you that there's someone downstairs looking for this room."

"What? Who?" Oliver instantly went into alert protective mode, his mind racing. He had a few evacuation plans for Felicity but they all required her to be in a bed, not a wheelchair. He could move her, but that would take an extra minute, and most of his plans were timed down to the second…

"Did you see who it was, Detective Lance?" Felicity noted that the cop didn't seem particularly worried so she wasn't about to work herself up yet.

"Blonde hair. About this tall. Answers to 'mom.'"

* * *

**A/N: I know, I know, I mention stuff and it happens and isn't that cheating-ish but listen, just let me have this bit of creative license.**


	13. Moments Like This

**A/N: I know, I know, I'm sorry! You all wanted Donna Smoak, and you get her - just not right meow. I kind of like this chapter though. Gives me the happies despite such a bummer topic. Also, HEY THANKS FOR REVIEWING! We reached 100 and that's very very super exciting thank you thank you thank you! **

* * *

"My _mother_ is here?" Felicity screeched, her heart monitor spiking violently. Her hand instantly went to her stomach incisions as the tension strained them and she looked with wild eyes to Oliver.

"What?" Detective Lance looked between Oliver and Felicity, who both seemed at war with what they should be doing. "Why would your mother be here? I don't even _know_ your mother. It's his!"

"**My** mother?" Oliver stopped in his tracks, next to the window, assessing any threats he could see from inside and slowly turned to look at the detective. "She's here?"

"Yeah, listen, maybe I should go?" Lance took a step back towards the door he had just entered.

"Can I go too?" Roy suddenly became a lot more alert at the prospect of leaving.

"_Can I_?" Felicity muttered darkly.

"Everyone is staying where they are!" Oliver ran a hand over his face. "Detective, can you stay with Felicity? She's been out of bed probably longer than she should be, so maybe you can help her get back in."

"I'm right here!"

Oliver turned to Felicity, his dark eyes pleading. "_Please_."

She rolled her eyes but nodded, pointing a finger at him before he walked away. "But _only_ because I am tired. And I was going to do this anyways."

"Thank you," he told her softly, his eyes communicating more than what he wanted to say. He turned to Roy. "You, stay here."

"Why can't I go?" He whined.

"Because if for some reason you run into my mother before I do, you will make the situation much worse."

He looked like he wanted to argue but instead just settled back into his chair at the table. "Fair enough."

* * *

Oliver stormed out the door, eager to find his mother and figure out what she was doing there.

His phone buzzed once and a quick glance told him it was Dig.

"What."

"We have a problem," Dig told him, not perturbed by his lack of manners at all.

"My mother."

"I just watched her get into an elevator. She's probably coming to you."

"How did she find out?"

"No clue. I checked the rags and the papers and there have been no mentions of you coming or going from here. Probably because you don't leave. If she knows you're here, it's not from the media."

"Perfect. Lance and Roy are with Felicity. Take the stairs and get to her."

Dig made a noise of affirmation and disconnected as Oliver stood in front of the elevator, patiently waiting for it to open and reveal his mother.

Not a minute later, the elevator dinged and the doors parted to reveal a rather harried nurse and Moira Queen, looking as put together as always.

"Oliver!" She looked genuinely surprised to see him, which caught him slightly off guard. "What are you doing here? I haven't seen you in a days!"

"I know, I'm sorry about that. But what are _you_ doing here?" He asked, gently removing her arms that had clasped around him.

"I was with our accountant when the hospital called regarding our payment." Her eyes searched her son's face for any sort of clue as to what was going on. "Do you know anything about that?"

"The money is coming directly from _my_ funds, mother. Not to mention it has been paid in full. Jack doesn't know anything about that."

She pursed her lips, not used to Oliver calling out her small lies.

"Well, I noticed some irregularities in your accounts and asked Jack to look into them. You spent almost 2 million here in the last week or so, which is a substantial investment. Given where your head has been lately, I was just trying to make sure that you were making sound fiscal decisions."

"You went into my accounts?" She had the nerve to flush slightly, but stood her ground, silent. "You need to leave."

"What is this place?" Moira Queen stepped around her son lithely, peering down the hall. It was quieter than any other wing, with only four patients on the ward currently, and none of them sharing a wall with Felicity. There were two nurses manning a station a few yards away, plus the one suited guard that stood watch over her door, but other than that, the hall was vacant. His mother's heels clacked loudly as she suddenly began to walk down the aisle.

Short of grabbing his mother's wrist to stop her, which he wasn't entirely above doing, all Oliver could do was keep up with her. When she paused outside Felicity's door, hearing the muffled voices of Felicity and Detective Lance, she turned to look at Oliver, her face showing recognition.

"You could have sent her to Cedar Springs, Oliver," she admonished. "Why keep her here? Locked up in a private wing?"

"Cedar Springs?" It took a moment before he remembered what that was: a rehabilitation facility a couple hundred miles away, in the middle of the mountains. It was where the rich and spoiled learned to cope with their lives without alcohol or cocaine or Vertigo. It was insulting, not to him, but to Felicity. "That is not what this is about."

He grabbed her arm as she raised it to open the door.

"This doesn't concern you. You need to leave." His voice was getting dangerously close to Arrow-level growls.

"You haven't been home for days, you're spending all your time with your EA who is addicted to god know's what, and you look terrible! I am your mother! If this _doesn't_ concern me, then I don't know what does!"

On some rational level, Oliver knew that his mother was just trying to look out for him, to protect him the best she could. However, that level was buried very, very deep inside of him, and he felt the familiar as of late feeling of his self control slipping.

"I am not letting you walk in there. You're going to go home and we will talk about this later."

She looked like she was going to argue with him. Her eyes darted down to where he firmly but gently held her wrist in his hand and back to his face which was steely with resolve. However, before she could formulate a sentence, the door in front of them opened, revealing Roy's wary face.

"She said you guys could come in instead of arguing at the door," he rushed to say at Oliver's furious look.

Moira Queen tossed her son a triumphant smile and walked into the room as if she owned it, which, to her, was not far from the truth. Oliver took a deep breath before following behind his mother, wondering what on earth Felicity was thinking, inviting her into her room like this. This room was supposed to be a sanctuary for Felicity, a quiet, relaxing, healing place. None of those words were associated with his mother.

"Hi Mrs. Queen," she greeted softly if not kindly.

Oliver rushed to her side, seeing a fine sheen of sweat on her upper lip from the strain of getting back into bed. His eyes roved over her, taking a mental catalogue of any possible injuries.

"I'm okay," she assured him quietly. "Just moved too fast is all."

He knew his worries were unfounded; Felicity had done three laps around the ward with her physio guy Steve earlier that day before their Scrabble game. (Steve had tried to get Oliver to walk five feet in front of them the entire time and he almost did it, just to see Felicity laugh like that again.) She was recuperating nicely and had the stitches on her neck removed the day prior, although they were still covered with those clear bandages she hated so much, and was scheduled to have the ones on her abdomen removed the coming weekend. She was doing well, and now they had their first setback in the form of one Moira Queen.

"Hello…"

"Don't be upset with Oliver. He was just doing what he thought was right." Her eyes lingered on his body, standing stock still next to her. "It's kind of his thing."

Instead of responding, Moira looked around, taking inventory of the room. "Detective. What a surprise. Are you here questioning Ms. Smoak?"

Felicity smiled at the collective tightening of jaws and fists in the room. The situation wasn't ideal, but it was starting to be a little funny to her.

"I'm not," the detective bristled. "Actually-"

"_Actually_, he was just on his way out." Felicity prayed that Lance understood what she was trying to say and when he nodded curtly at her, she knew he had gotten her message. She hadn't meant to be rude, but she didn't really want him around to see this.

"My shift starts in a bit. I'll see you later, kid."

She mouthed 'thank you,' not surprised when Roy stood up as well.

"My shift starts soon too."

"Your 9 p.m. shift at the club?" Oliver asked lightly. It was only 2 in the afternoon, but he wanted to watch Roy squirm.

"...Yup. Hey, detective, think you can give me a ride…?"

"I'll take him." Dig's deep voice came from by the door. He didn't look like he just ran up several flights of stairs, but Felicity and Oliver noted the slightly elevated breathing rate and the glare he didn't even bother to try and hide from Oliver. He walked to Felicity, giving her a light kiss on the forehead before turning to leave, muttering good naturedly past Oliver. "20 flights of stairs and he just _lets_ her in the room…"

Finally alone, Mrs. Queen focused her attention on Felicity. She felt like she was under a microscope, with all of her flaws being picked apart. She nervously glanced towards Oliver, who was staring stonily at his mother.

"I have cancer," she blurted out suddenly. "I know you think I don't. Or think I have some sort of problem, based on what you were saying to Oliver. Not that this isn't a problem, because it is. It's not great. But yeah. I uh, don't have a _problem_ problem. I mean, they give me morphine but I'm really careful about using it too much..."

Oliver's eyes drifted to the ceiling momentarily before he felt like he could face his mother. He honestly wasn't sure whether he wanted Felicity to stop or continue speaking at that point in time.

"Cancer?" Moira echoed. "But Oliver...you led me to believe…"

"I didn't lead you to believe anything. This has nothing to do with you, and I asked you to respect that."

"It has _something_ to do with me, Oliver. You put your life on hold, asked Walter to step back into his role at QC, you haven't been home in days, I think I deserve to know what's going on in your life."

"I thought you were on vacation!" Felicity exclaimed.

"It is...a type of vacation."

"_Oliver!_"

"Felicity, dear...I didn't know."

She just shrugged. "It's okay. I mean, you know my name, which is something. Usually you just call me 'Oliver's assistant,' or 'EA in a short skirt," she explained. "We've learned a lot today I think."

"I'm so sorry, it's just...is it…?"

"Treatable? Yup. Although we haven't really gotten to that fun stage yet." Oliver slid his hand into her's at that statement. Felicity was more shook up about starting chemotherapy that week than she led on.

"Do you need anything? Is your family here?"

It might have not seemed strange to Oliver, but for Felicity, seeing Moira Queen slip into a maternal role was more than a little unsettling.

"I'm okay. Oliver's really taken care of everything, pretty much."

"And your family?"

She couldn't help her eyes once again drifting to Oliver. "I've got everything I need, Mrs. Queen."

"Very well then. Oliver, if you could, um, walk me to the elevator? I'll get out of your hair and let you relax, Miss Smoak. I'm sorry for intruding today."

"S'okay."

Oliver looked like he didn't want to go anywhere with his mother, but he eventually obliged after a quick squeeze to Felicity's hand. He was gone for only a minute before walking back in and shutting the door, leaning against it.

"Well that went well," he breathed out sarcastically.

"I think she's thinking about liking me."

"Who couldn't?" He smiled as he made his way back to her bed, settling in his chair next to her.

"Oh, lot's of people. Some people don't find this," she waved her hand in front of her mouth, "endearing, if you can believe it."

"Get outta town."

"It's true." She bit her lip. "I don't want you to fight with your mom over me."

"It has nothing to do with you, Felicity."

"Still. I didn't know you asked Walter to come back to QC, and you're always here and everyone says you look tired which you _know_ what that means and -"

"Hey," he cut her off before she could get too riled. "I'm here because I want to be. And Walter _is_ helping out at QC, but I'm not gone forever. I'm going to help out in a more advisory role. But yeah, for the next few weeks, I'm on vacation with you."

"Aren't your usual vacations on some private beach somewhere, with models bringing you drinks with little umbrellas in them?"

"I don't remember the last beach I was on having drinks with little umbrellas, but I could be wrong."

"Sorry. Sorry. I just. You're here, all the time. It doesn't seem like much fun for you. And I guess I just want to know...why?"

"Felicity…" He dragged his chair closer to her bed. "Seeing you in this bed, in pain - it is about the furthest thing from fun that I can imagine. But that's not why I'm here."

"Then wh-"

He took her hand and cut her off with a look. He was struggling to get the words out but for the first time in their relationship, Felicity didn't feel the need to fill the silence with words. She was going to wait this one out. Wait _Oliver_ out.

"Of all the places that I've gone, all the people that I've met…" His voice was quiet, serious. "I've never met someone like you. Someone with as much passion and life and...you're really _vibrant_, you know?"

"It's the lipstick."

He smiled again, her favorite type of Oliver smile - like he couldn't believe his body had betrayed him into curving his lips up and actually showing some sort of enjoyment. It wasn't a huge smile, but it was the one she preferred over all others. It gave her some sense of satisfaction, like she had snuck up on him and made him happy, against all odds.

"Out of all the people I've lost, I never...I never even considered something like this. Something like _cancer_. That would come and steal people away. Steal _you_ away."

"They estimate that 1,500 people per day are diagnosed with cancer which is... not important and not what you were saying at all. I'm not going anywhere, Oliver."

"I know. You're going to fight this and you're going to win."

"I will live to fight another day. And then you can rescue me when I get into trouble."

"Always."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, both content just holding each other's hand and existing. Felicity eventually asked the question that had been burning on her lips for the last week.

"Oliver, I know we haven't really talked about it, but how are we going to...with Team Arrow and stuff."

"Terrible nickname," he muttered good-naturedly, but she just smiled happily at him not outright refuting it. "Dig and I are working on some stuff. Sterilizing the whole lair, making sure that you'll be able to go there when you're up for it. You probably won't be able to enter through the club anymore, but we will make it work."

"What? Why not?"

"Well, after your treatment, your neutrophils will be low, and it'll be best to stay away from crowds like the club and the mall and stuff. If we can sterilize the foundry as much as possible, then you should be able to come and go as you please."

"What are neutrophils?" She was almost positive that hadn't come up in any conversation with her doctors or nurses.

"White blood cells that make up your innate immune system. A low count is called neutropenia and will make you highly susceptible to infections." He recited the words perfectly, looking pretty proud with himself.

"No one here has been reading US Weekly, have they?"

"We'll make it work, Felicity. Between me, Dig, Roy, and even Sara when she gets back, we'll make it work. You're not failing the city by being sick."

"I don't fail much of anything. I have an excellent grade point average."

"Let's see if your vitals are excellent today," her favorite nurse, an older black woman named Mary, with her gray hair piled on top of her head, spoke from the door as she skirted around the security that was still stationed there.

Oliver and Felicity shared another smile before he pushed his chair back, allowing the nurse to do her job.

* * *

"How's Thea?" It was early evening on Thursday, the day before Felicity's chemotherapy was supposed to start, and Roy was keeping her company until Detective Lance got off shift with dinner. She had kicked Oliver and Diggle out earlier, citing the fact that they were both practically vibrating with energy. She told them to go spar or work out or beat up some bad guys before they came back, since she knew that they'd be around plenty the next day.

"She's good. A little bummed that her mom saw you in the hospital before she did, I think, but I guess the club has been keeping her really busy or something."

"Tell her not to worry about it. I'm gonna be in here for at least the next week or so before they discharge me, and then I come back every time I need more chemo, so there will be plenty of times for visits then."

"Still. She's been kind of weird about this whole thing. I can't believe she hasn't been by yet."

Felicity knew that Roy was only looking out for her, and she pushed his shoulder lightly. "Don't worry about it. I don't take it personally. One member of the Queen family needs to actually have a job." He smiled at that. "Help me get up to the table?"

She was doing a lot better in getting around on her own, but she had a tendency to get tangle up in her wires and tubes, and appreciated anyone's help in guaranteeing that she didn't accidentally tug anything. It didn't hurt per se, but the sensation of something under her skin pulling was enough to make her feel a little queasy.

"What's dinner tonight and do you think he brought enough for me?"

"The way the detective buys food, I'm sure there's enough for this whole hospital. And I think it's Italian tonight, which is perfect because I am _starving_. They said I shouldn't eat past 7 so I hope he gets here soon. I'm surprised he's not back yet, actually."

"Speak and ye shall be heard." Detective Lance walked in with two pizza boxes and a stack of metal tins with various other kinds of takeout balanced on top. "Sorry I'm late." He bent and kissed Felicity's cheek as he put down the food. "Ran into Laurel."

"Is everything okay?" Felicity asked as she uncovered the first tin, almost moaning in appreciation of the fettuccine in front of her.

"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine. Just wondering where I've been is all. Don't worry, I didn't say anything about you."

"You don't need to lie for me, Detective. Especially not to your own daughter," she told him as she speared a shrimp on her fork. It wasn't kosher but it was so, so delicious.

"Nah, don't worry about it, we're both busy." He quickly folded a piece of pizza and took about half of it in one bite, spurring Roy on to do the same. "No entourage today?"

"She sent them away to burn off some energy," Roy answered for her while her mouth was full. His was too, but that didn't hamper his response at all.

"Queen's been pacing around like an animal lately so that makes sense. Good for him to go do...something."

"I don't think it's that creepy that he hangs out here all day," Roy remarked as he pulled another piece of pizza out of the box. When he met Lance and Felicity's stares he just shrugged. "Oh, were we not saying that and just thinking it?"

"He's just being a good guy."

"Hah. Would your boss ever do this?" Lance asked Roy.

"Well, technically Oliver owns the club. So he kind of already did. And if we're talking my direct boss, which is my girlfriend, then yeah. Probably."

Lance sighed, pointing his finger at the pair sitting in front of him. "The two of you need to have some normal friends."

"We're friends with each other," Felicity pointed out.

"Right. The hacker and the mugger. A match made in heaven."

"Hey, Roy doesn't even steal anymore! Right, Roy?"

"_Roy_ never stole in the first place, especially when he is in conversations with **cops, **Felicity," he gritted out.

"Sometimes I forget he's a cop."

"Well, I doubt he ever does."

Lance squinted and shook his head, but he had to force a smile down. "Nice try, kid." He didn't mind hanging out with the reformed mugger so much anymore. He was good for Felicity; he let her take care of him, which in turn made her more willing to accept everyone else trying to take care of her.

"Well on that note, Roy needs to get to work."

"Don't let Dig hear you talk about yourself in the third person. He _hates_ it when Oliver does it."

"Because it is weird and unnerving." Dig walked into the room, his eyes firmly fixed on the pizza on the table. Oliver walked in behind him with a younger nurse who was doing nothing to hide the appreciation she had for his body as she stayed a step behind him.

He rubbed her shoulder in greeting as he took Roy's recently vacated seat next to her.

"Pizza?" She offered, despite the fact that she hadn't bought it. "No olives, I promise."

He smiled in gratitude as she said bye to Roy and let the nurse take her vitals.

"Dr. Fox will be by in a little bit to go over everything you need to know about starting chemo tomorrow. Remember, no eating past 7 and try to get some rest tonight." The nurse smiled at Oliver. "Goodnight, Mr. Queen."

With such a formal reminder of what was coming the next day, Felicity felt the fettuccine she was previously enjoying so much sit heavy in her stomach. The next day her life changed. The surgery was - well, it was surgery, but it wasn't as life-altering as this. She barely even missed her spleen these days. A surgery is something everyone went through now and then. If it had only been that, she'd be recuperating this weekend and then returning to work on Monday. But chemotherapy was a different beast altogether. It was going to make her nauseous and tired and make her hair fall out, and that was only what she knew from watching Grey's Anatomy reruns. She could only guess that the other, less-glamorous symptoms would rear their head in time.

"Everything okay?"

She must have been silent longer than she realized for Detective Lance to call her out on it. Oliver and Dig were a bit better with her quiet lapses, choosing to ignore them until she came out of them on their own, but Lance never gave her that luxury. He was a big fan of confronting issues head on.

"Just a little apprehensive is all."

"That seems normal," Oliver assured her. "You don't know what's going to happen. But you're not going to figure it out by not eating, so…" He nudged her elbow, encouraging her to pick up her fork.

"Yeah," Dig agreed. "You didn't even have a garlic knot yet."

He tossed one to her, a gentle throw really, one that she would've normally caught if she hadn't been so tied up in her own head. But as it was, she looked up just in time to see the offending baked good hit her square in the forehead and bounce into her fettuccine.

Oliver's hand instantly went over his mouth, his eyes trained on Felicity. Lance looked like he couldn't tell if he was supposed to smile or be angry at the turn of events, and Dig looked more than a little contrite.

"I...I thought you were going to catch it."

"Did you just throw a garlic knot at my head?"

"At _you_. Felicity, I threw the garlic knot at you, to catch it." He looked genuinely worried that she was upset with him.

She lifted her hand to touch the offending spot on her head, took one look at her grease-coated fingers after barely touching her face and she couldn't help it. One laugh bubbled up out of her, and then another, and then before she knew it, she was _giggling_. Lance was the next one to join in, his guffaws shaking his shoulders, and Oliver followed suit, his laughter much more subdued but still apparent. Dig was the only one who looked like he truly couldn't decide if it was okay to laugh or if he should apologize more.

As the laughter eventually subsided and Felicity picked up her fork to continue eating, she realized that the heavy feeling in her stomach hadn't dissipated. She wasn't even sure that it ever would. She was always going to be afraid of the unknown, and she would always be terrified of what this disease and its treatment was doing to her body. But in that moment, before she got her body pumped with poison, before her body was truly ravaged with the effects of the disease, and she just simply sat and ate dinner with 3 of her favorite people in the world, she realized that maybe it was okay that she was afraid. She didn't _have _to be fearless. She just had to keep living for days like this. Moments like this. This was what she was fighting for.


	14. Only The Beginning

**A/N: I am slacking something FIERCE when it comes to responding to reviews, but I hope you know I appreciate every single word everyone writes. Things have just been crazy on my side. This chapter has been a long time in the making: chemotherapy. Had to happen sometime. Lots of science medical talk in this one, which...I don't know, I'm going to stop apologizing for including it because I think it is necessary for this story and for my own peace of mind and in order to give cancer patients and survivors the respect they deserve. On a lighter note, I kinda just wanna love Oliver, is that weird? Or maybe just hug him?**

* * *

It was a little past 8, and Felicity was already safely wrapped up in bed and it was just Oliver sitting next to her. He was folded in his usual chair by her bed, pretending to check his emails on his phone, but mostly watching her. He felt a little bad for the reasoning behind his current staring; he felt like maybe this was the last time he would see a completely healthy (at least on the outside) Felicity for some time. He was taking in every inch of her. The smoothness of her skin, the pallor of her cheeks, the way her hair fell gently around her face - all of that was being mentally noted and filed away. He never wanted to forget the way she looked right now. She didn't look perfect, but that just added to her allure. Her hair had air-dried and was flirting with being frizzy, but somehow just looked adorable. She had developed some slight hematomas under her skin where she had lymph nodes removed, so her neck was a bit swollen as well. To Oliver, she had never looked better.

"Stop staring at me," she told him without looking up from her tablet.

"No." Oliver was happy to be called out on it, locking his phone and setting it to the side.

"Please?" She met his eyes and he could see the smile that was lurking there.

"Felicity, I would do absolutely anything for you. You know that." He waited until he saw her eyes start to soften before he continued. "Except that."

She laughed aloud at that, rolling her eyes at his antics. "What am I going to do with you?"

"The question of our lives."

They were interrupted shortly after by Dr. Fox, who bustled into the room with his chart and a small smile on his face.

"Mr. Queen, how nice of you to finally show your face around here," the doctor joked, having never been in the room without him. He turned to Felicity. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. Good. Nervous. A little scared. But still happy we're starting. Mostly good." Dr. Fox cocked his eyebrow at her. "I am all of those things."

"Well, it's completely normal to feel that way before we begin. I know we went over this earlier in the week, but I'm just going to run over it one last time and make sure you don't have any questions. Tomorrow starts day 1 of your chemo, and we will be using the R-CHOP protocol, which is just the initials of the medicine we will be using. It is a three week cycle - 1 week on, 2 weeks off. It may seem like that's us dragging it out, but those two weeks are critical in letting your body recover and get back to the strength it needs to be in order undergo more chemo. During the course of your treatments, you will be _extremely_ susceptible to infections. Even the common cold is the enemy now. Anytime you have a fever that spikes over 101 degrees, you come straight to the hospital. No questions asked. Understood?"

Oliver answered much more emphatically than Felicity, but it was all the same to her. From what she had gathered from everything she had looked at, hospital stays weren't going to be all that uncommon for her.

"Do either of you have any questions regarding the chemotherapy?"

Oliver deferred to Felicity, who had to remind herself to breathe in order to respond.

"So, it's going to make me...sick?"

"Nausea and fatigue are the most common symptoms with chemo, yes. We will give you anti-nausea drugs at the beginning of each treatment, but it will unfortunately be a bit of trial-and-error until we find the best combination that works for you. Other side effects include possible mouth sores or ulcers, since your digestive tract will be damaged from the medicine, and joint and leg soreness or aches are also not uncommon, especially with one of the medicines you will be receiving, vincristine."

"There's no 'V' in R-CHOP," Oliver pointed out worriedly.

"Oncovin is the brand name that is used in that acronym," Dr. Fox told him with a smile. Oliver Queen was certainly doing his research.

He nodded once.

"And my um...my hair?" Felicity barely wanted to know the answer to this question but she knew she had to ask.

"Many patients do experience some or all hair loss during chemotherapy. The drugs are targeting fast dividing cells, and hair cells are some of the fastest. These medicines don't differentiate, unfortunately. We don't know how your body will react to these drugs though, so I can't tell you exactly what will happen. You could start to see some hair loss between 10 days and 3 weeks, and it might not ever all fall out, it could just thin considerably. Your hair seems to be very thick, Miss Smoak, so the odds are in your favor."

Felicity couldn't help running her fingers through the tips of her blonde hair that rested on her shoulders. "How very Hunger Games," she muttered, trying to not cry at the thought of her hair falling out. Oliver's hand found hers, once again, and she didn't even bother to try not to hold on to it tightly.

"Your morning tomorrow will be filled with some pre-chemo testing. We want to have baselines for all of your major organs as well as your hearing and vision, plus some simple blood labs which we'll get from your port."

"Okay," she whispered.

"I know it may seem overwhelming right now, Miss Smoak, but you'll fall into a routine soon enough. And as futile as these words may be, you should try and get some rest tonight. Tomorrow will be here before you know it, and you'll need all your strength."

He excused himself and Felicity tried not to replay all of his words in her head. She felt like she was on information overload and she needed an external harddrive to put all of this cancer business on. Just a separate part of her that held all this knowledge that she could access when she needed to, but could ignore when she didn't. Unfortunately, she didn't think that was going to be possible. Unless…

"Do human robots exist yet?"

"I'm not turning you into a robot." Of course Oliver knew exactly where her mind was headed. He was Oliver.

"Is it bad that I don't want to know all of this? That I'm not half as interested as you or Detective Lance or Dig? I didn't even know that bit about neutropenia… I mean, even Roy made me watch The Fault in Our Stars with him the other day because he thought it would help put things in perspective."

"Did it?"

"Not for me, but Roy cried for ten minutes after."

Oliver smirked at that and studied her for a few moments.

"Felicity, none of us are mad that you don't read more about it, or want to spend time researching this. We do it because...it's all we can do. It makes me feel good knowing that by reading books or articles that I can... protect you better." It wasn't exactly what he meant, but it was the only sentence that made sense in his head.

"So you're saying it's completely selfish?" She teased. "Oliver Queen: _not_ the philanthropist that Starling City seems to believe."

"I'm _saying_," he talked over her, "that you live with this every day. You have experiences that we can't get from a book or from a medical journal. If reading about it doesn't help you, then don't read, its as simple as that. I'll read enough for the two of us."

"Things I never thought I'd hear you say."

"Better take note. I'm not gonna say it again."

* * *

She woke up with Oliver's hand grasped in hers. Her eyes opened slowly, with her mind seemingly never remembering where she was, and she noticed Oliver across from her. His body was stretched across the gap between the chair and the bed, his head resting on his arms next to hers while he still maintained the semblance of sitting in the chair. She squeezed his hand lightly, not at all surprised when his eyes flew open and he was completely alert. Absolutely nothing like her morning ritual of taking twenty minutes to feel human.

"You can't be comfortable."

"Says the girl with a life-threatening disease."

She opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by Detective Lance walking through the door.

"Donuts are here and if you make one comment about police stereotypes, Queen, I'll arrest you myself."

"Can I make a comment?" Felicity asked. "I have cancer."

Lance shook his head in mock disgust. "Using the cancer card. Every time."

As excited as she was for real food, she was only able to eat about three quarters of her sprinkled donut. Oliver's eyes silently plead for her to keep eating, to gather her strength, but she just couldn't. When he got up to take a shower, Lance slipped into his chair by her side and popped the rest of her uneaten donut into his mouth.

"He's worried about you."

"He's hovering is what he's doing."

"We're all kind of hovering."

"No kidding. Are you even a cop anymore, or did you take a leave of absence as well?"

"Been pretty quiet lately. Our mutual friend has been trussing up the local gangbangers almost nightly. Makes my job easy. I've got a shift in an hour or so, but thought I'd stop by first."

She smiled at his efforts - and his donuts - but her mind remained focused on his previous words. She wasn't surprised that Oliver, Dig, and Roy had stayed active and busy in their efforts to clean up the street, but she was a little miffed that they never really talked about it with her.

"Speaking of our friend. Any chance he and I will run into each other here? I assume you told him."

"I did. And why? Do you need to get a message to him?"

"Nah, just wanted to make sure he was taking care of you. Haven't seen him here, so…"

"I don't think you're supposed to _see_ the vigilante if he doesn't want to be seen. Or else he'd be a pretty bad vigilante."

"Hey," he pointed at her. "There's no such thing as a good vigilante. Just because he's helping doesn't mean that he's good."

"Trust me, that's not what makes him good." She gave a little snort. "'No such thing as a good vigilante?' How often do you find yourself giving lectures about that?"

"I should get it printed on a damn t-shirt," he muttered. "Half the precinct loves him, the other half hates him, and I have to constantly remind people that taking the law into your own hands isn't a good idea."

"You live a hard life," she told him sagely.

"And don't you forget it. Now, do you want me to come by after work or are you going to be okay?"

"I'm probably going to be throwing up if I'm to believe what the doctors are saying so you should probably skip that."

"Eh, once you're a parent, that stuff doesn't phase you. And then you become a cop and you've got kids like Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn who puke on cop cars for fun. But I might try and get dinner with Laurel tonight if it's okay with you."

"You don't need to ask me for permission, Detective."

"Eh, you say that, but the one time I don't, the whole world is gonna go up in the flames," he kidded, standing up and swinging on his jacket.

"You never have to justify spending time with Laurel to me. She's your daughter."

Lance gave her a curious look. "The hell do you think you are?" He was by the door before she could even process his words. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

* * *

The pre-chemo testing took up her entire morning and most of her afternoon. She lamented Oliver not being able to go with her as she was carted around the hospital for EKG tests and hearing tests and GFR tests which she wasn't entirely sure what that even was but she thought it might have something to do with her kidney function.

She fell asleep as soon as she got back to her room and when she opened her eyes next, she was happy to see Oliver, Dig, and Roy sitting on the couch, relaxing silently. She had to hold back a snicker, but she wondered what it would take to have the three of them do the poses of 'see, hear, and speak no evil.' She suspected that it wouldn't be all that difficult.

"What time is it?" She wondered aloud. The three men in front of her jumped up at her voice, crowding her in her bed.

"Half past four," Dig told her. Her chemo was supposed to start at 5. She had slept longer than she wanted to.

"You nervous?" It was surprisingly Roy who asked the question that was on everyone's lips.

"Yeah," she answered honestly. "More like scared as hell, but it doesn't really matter. Me being afraid isn't going to change anything. Still gonna have to go through all this."

"Well, I think you're brave." Roy made the comment so casually that Felicity actually laughed.

"I am anything but brave, trust me. I'm a nervous wreck and my emotions are all over the place and I feel bad for me but also you guys because you are all wrapped up in this now and you're going through stuff too and you're always _here_ and that makes me feel like such a burden and-"

"You're not a burden, Felicity," Dig cut off her rant, knowing she was just working herself up to one of her infamous ten minute tangents. "And don't worry about us. We are all dealing with this, yes, but we're doing it together."

"We're Team Arrow." Oliver's eyes went to the ceiling, praying to some unseen deity for the patience to allow Roy to finish his sentence. "Where else would we be?"

"Roy's right," Oliver finally spoke. "We are a team. A nameless team. But a team. And none of us are going anywhere."

"Unless you puke." All eyes turned to Roy, who shrugged self-consciously. "I don't really do well with that kind of stuff."

"I won't make you watch me be sick. _Any_ of you. But thanks for being here."

Her gratitude multiplied when she felt her heart rate speed up when two nurses entered with a whole cart full of medications. The biohazard sign was used liberally over everything, and two IV bags were labeled with bright purple stickers that said 'CAUTION: CYTOTOXIC.' The nurses moved with a practiced ease as they double check dosages and her vitals, all comparing to her hospital wristband with her information on it. When they were finally ready to begin, Felicity felt more than a little overwhelmed. She kind of thought it was just going to be an IV, but these people had so much going on in their cart that she doubted it was going to be that simple. When they placed a kidney dish on the nightstand next to her, she felt her heart sink. It was all happening so fast.

"You ready to get this show on the road?" One nurse, who Felicity thought was named Eleanor, looked to her with a bright smile. Was Felicity supposed to be excited about this?

"Okay, so!" Eleanor clapped her hands together. "This is your first cycle so we do it a bit slower to introduce the medicine into your body. It'll always be two days of chemo, but it'll just be a bit longer this first time. This first bag will run for about an hour, and the next will run for about three. Tomorrow you'll have another infusion that will be the longest one - about 6 hours. The other medicine we are just going to inject directly into your port, so there aren't any bags associated with that. And finally, the prednisone is given as a pill, but we'll give those after treatments to guarantee that you don't get sick and have it come back up, okay?"

Everyone nodded, and Felicity gave a shaky smile to Roy, who looked as if he was on the verge of crying.

"Now when the chemo starts flowing, you might be able to taste it, or even smell it. That's completely normal, and a lot of patients don't notice it after the first one or two doses. Drink as much water as possible. Seriously. We will also have a line set up with fluids, but you drinking helps to dilute the medicine and that protects your body. If you start to feel sick or dizzy, buzz us immediately. Now, for you three," she turned to the men standing like soldiers at the foot of the bed. "This is important. And be sure to tell this to the detective that spends a lot of time here as well: you have to be very very careful to not get any of Felicity's bodily fluids on you while she's on chemo. Vomit, urine, nothing."

Roy took a carefully measured small step backwards.

"The chemo will be present in all of her fluids, and contact with any of that can be extremely toxic to you guys, so you need to be extra careful. There are some double-strength latex gloves over there if you need them, and always err on the side of caution. I can't stress that enough."

Upon seeing everyone on the same page, Eleanor nodded happily and moved to Felicity's side. She swabbed the small port that was embedded in her skin, looking just like a raised quarter as her doctor had told her it would.

"Alright, that's the vincristine," Eleanor quickly injected a syringe into the port and carefully discarded it in the biohazard bin.

"I never thought I'd see the day where you didn't flinch at a needle, Felicity," Dig said with thinly veiled pride.

"Eh, well, they use a topical numbing solution. I can't even feel it. But you should definitely still be impressed."

"And now..." The nurse finished fiddling with lumens and tubes and IVs and she slid another needle into the port. "Rituximab. This might make you feel a little flushed or overheated, but it'll subside really easily. Since this is your first time, you can expect plenty of check-ins by either me or the other nurses. Not to mention tonight we will be on you about every two hours, making sure you're emptying your bladder consistently. Now drink drink drink and I'll see you in a bit!"

After the nurses left, Felicity had to ask.

"Was she _super_ excited about this or was that just me?"

"Way too excited," Dig confirmed.

"Creeped me out," Roy agreed, bending over to re-position the couch in front of the bed, their typical movie-watching setup. This way, they all saw the television and Felicity didn't feel like she was on display.

Oliver just smiled at her, putting a bottle of water in front of her from the small mini-fridge in the room.

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled, uncapping it and taking a huge swig. Oliver looked satisfied with that but didn't join Dig and Roy on the couch, instead settling into his normal chair by her bed, ostensibly to keep an eye on her.

She really did have the best friends in the world.

* * *

She wasn't sure what she had been expecting - a huge contributing factor of her fear, definitely - but the whole 'getting chemotherapy' thing was a little...anticlimactic. At least, that was how Roy had put it when he left after they finished watching Die Hard.

"Sorry Blondie, I kind of thought it would be more exciting." He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I'll bring the other Die Hards later on this week though. We'll marathon 'em. Maybe Thea will even come too."

She didn't blame him for leaving because it certainly wasn't interesting. She had gotten a little warm during the first bag, but nothing too major. She had actually been startled when the IV pole started beeping, signifying that the first bag was done. The second bag was a little different, in the sense that she did get a funny taste in her mouth, and the oddest sensation that while she couldn't _smell_ anything differently, it was as if the taste had migrated to her nostrils. She tried explaining it to Oliver, but his eyes had only gotten big and he asked if she needed him to get a nurse.

They were a little over halfway through Cast Away - Oliver's idea of a joke, if she had to guess - when a wave of nausea swept over Felicity.

"Oliver…"

He looked over and she was pale as a ghost, eyes closed tight.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain? What do you need?"

She tried to ride it out, to take deep breaths through her nose, to focus on anything _but_ that feeling, but she couldn't. Unable to open her mouth for fear of something besides words coming out, she shook her head and motioned wildly to the nightstand where the kidney bowl rested.

Understanding immediately, Oliver grabbed the dish and held it under her chin, just in time for her to get violently ill in it. She took it from his hands, grasping it tightly as she heaved into it, and used his now-free arms to quickly gather her hair away from her face.

Dig had stood the second Felicity had moaned Oliver's name, and he remained standing at the foot of the bed, taking in the scene before him and feeling utterly helpless.

"In her bag in the bathroom, her toiletry stuff, can you find a hair tie?" Oliver asked as he clumsily got the hair into a half-assed ponytail. Dig was efficient as ever and Oliver struggled to get her hair through the loops of the elastic. When he was confident it would hold, he sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her back as she continued to get sick.

He felt so completely out of control in that moment, so it was fitting that the sight of her messy ponytail is the one that almost pushed him over the edge. She was throwing up in front of him, sweating with exertion as her body tried to dispel the chemicals that were supposed to be saving her, and her damn _ponytail_ was the thing that Oliver couldn't wrap his head around.

It was messy and imperfect, sitting low on the nape of her neck instead of her typical higher, traditional ponytails, and all Oliver could think about was how she deserved more. She deserved a perfect ponytail. She deserved to not be in the hospital. She deserved _everything_. And there were so many people out there that _did_ deserve this. People that hurt others for their own sick pleasure, people who delighted in others' pain. _They_ were the ones that should be sitting in a hospital bed, not Felicity. Not her.

Finally, a few minutes later, Felicity relaxed against the head of her bed. She knew that tears were streaming down her face but she wasn't sure if they were from pain, stress, or embarrassment of throwing up in front of her two best friends.

Dig had ran out and gotten Mary, her favorite nurse, when neither him nor Oliver could see the buzzer for the nurse's station on Felicity's bed, figuring she had to have been lying on it. Mary came in and took her temperature and adjusted the anti-nausea meds, quickly rinsing out the kidney dish before returning it to Felicity, who clutched it like a lifeline. The entire time Oliver remained a statue; he sat on the edge of the bed with her and alternated between rubbing her back, his fingers running through her ponytail, and dabbing a cold compress on her forehead.

"I'm sorry," Felicity whispered weakly, too exhausted to open her eyes. "Worst vacation ever."

"I was tortured for weeks on my last vacation. Don't worry. And hey," he waited for Felicity to lock eyes with him, "Do not apologize for this. Ever. You understand me? This is not your fault. And I don't want to hear you talk about it like it is."

Whatever Felicity's response was going to be, it was silenced when her body hunched forward over the bin again, heaving.

Dig and Oliver shared a look across the room that spoke of helplessness and despair at seeing the brightest thing in their lives be in so much pain. And this was only the beginning.


	15. A Night Best Forgotten

**A/N: Thank you for the sweet, wonderful, kind words, once again. Hope this chapter lives up to the enjoyment I believe you've all been getting from this story so far! And maybe that it even opens up some eyes to the torture that is chemotherapy. Blech. This is a pretty Oliver-centric chapter, and it could probably even fit in with the For Darker Days series, but writing Felicity being sick for paragraphs on end is depressing. I needed some Oliver-cheer.**

* * *

If he didn't know any better, Detective Lance would've thought he had walked into the wrong room. After a nod from the security agent at the door, he waltzed in as he usually did, prepared to give some much-needed cheering up the woman he thought of like a daughter, but the room was different.

Visually, the room was pretty much the same, aside from the curtains being half drawn and the overhead lights off. The curtains were a big deal though, considering how much Felicity loved the view of Starling City. He didn't ever recall the lights being turned off during the day either, especially since she tried to stay on a normal schedule as much as possible, despite being bedridden for a lot of her time there. But it was more than the darkened room. Lance could _feel_ it. It was as if the room itself was tired, exhausted even. When his eyes finally made it to the hospital bed, he knew why.

Felicity was asleep, but judging from the look on Oliver's face next to her, this wasn't a thing that would last long. He got up when he saw the detective, quickly crossing the room and ushering him back out the door to the hallway where he felt they could speak freely.

"How's she doing?"

He carefully weighed his words.

"I've had a lot of bad nights in my life, but that is the only one that I want to forget."

They had been up all night essentially, with her being sick and a brief dizzy spell that left Oliver more afraid than he had thought possible. The light had started to aggravate her eyes the second the sun started to rise, and as much as she didn't want to, having always wanted to witness a sunrise over Starling, had to ask Oliver to angle the blinds down. He could have handled it if it was just the sickness and the aches. But what he hadn't been prepared for were the tears and the pleading from Felicity. He could have sworn he felt his heart fracture just a little bit when around 4 a.m., she begged him to not make her do it again. To not have to put that poison in her body, to not make her be sick anymore. She had apologized profusely afterwards, promising she didn't mean it and that she was just in a lot of pain and wasn't thinking clearly, but it had rattled Oliver. For the first time since all of this began, he realized that this entire situation, not to mention his entire future, hinged upon Felicity not giving up. It was _her_ fight and she was the only one that could do this. The idea that it might at one point get to be too much for her was unfathomable on one hand, while an actual possibility on the other.

Lance studied Oliver, who looked just as exhausted as he had to have felt. His eyes were red-rimmed, from lack of sleep and his emotions getting the better of him, and the skin around his mouth was pinched with effort to try and seem unphased. That, plus his wrinkled jeans and the plaid button up that had a pair of latex gloves sticking out of the front pocket told the cop that the night had been long for not just Felicity.

"She get any sleep?" He didn't want to insult the boy and suggest that he slept while Felicity was sick on her own.

"An hour? Maybe? She's been out for about 20 minutes so far and it's the longest stretch. They gave her a large dose of the anti-nausea medicine so hopefully that puts her out for a while. But she still has hours left on chemo today, plus tomorrow she goes on steroids and…" He trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable with how much he was sharing with Lance. It wasn't as if Felicity's treatment was a secret, but he knew that was the most words to come out of his mouth to the detective since he had returned from the island. The fact that they had just flowed freely told him that he was a lot more tired than he though.

"Why don't you go home and get some rest?"

"I'm fine," came the instant, instinctive response.

"Well you may be fine but you look like the walking dead."

Oliver breathed out a laugh. What had Roy been saying a few weeks ago about the walking dead phase? Or was it walking ghost? It seemed like a whole lifetime ago, when everything was different. Better. But not really, he had to remind himself. Felicity had still been sick back then, they just hadn't known. It was as if all his memories were now tainted with that knowledge. He knew, logically, that there was nothing he could have done to detect this earlier, or discover it sooner, and there was no point in wasting time thinking that he could have. But at the same time, it was Felicity, his Felicity, and he still felt on some level that he should've known.

"Kid?"

"I might try to get some sleep on the couch, if you don't mind just sitting with her."

It was a small concession, but it was something. He wasn't sure if he'd really be able to relax enough to fall asleep, but he thought it might be good for Felicity to see someone else besides him sitting next to her. They reentered the room silently, pleased to note that Felicity was still sleeping, and Oliver repositioned the couch as quietly as he could so that he would be able to see her if he opened his eyes. He watched as Lance gently took her hand in his and whispered something in her ear.

These were their lives now.

* * *

She finished her first round of chemo on Saturday night, and by Tuesday morning she was finally feeling human, the nausea all but completely subsided. She was still majorly fatigued and spent most of her time sleeping, but anytime she didn't wake up reaching for the bowl on her nightstand was a win in both her's and Oliver's minds.

On Thursday, she finally felt as if things were getting back to normal - especially when she heard the whispers of her possibly being discharged. Dr. Fox came in that afternoon and said that all of her blood work came back good, so her counts were high enough for her to go home the next day, if she was interested. Felicity had a good laugh at that. As if there was a chance that she _wasn't_ going to be interested.

"My own bed," she moaned wistfully. "My own _socks_!"

"You don't like the hospital slipper socks?" Dig asked indulgently, flipping through the TV channels.

"I do," Roy chimed in. "I've taken like, five pairs." At their looks, he scoffed. "What? Like Oliver can't afford it?"

"Speaking of, where is he? I thought he said he'd be here today? Did he take security with him?"

Felicity shrugged. "Haven't seen him since they told me I could go home. You'd think he'd want to celebrate with me breaking out of this place."

"Maybe he's mad that he'll be paying rent on a place that you won't even be living in," Roy suggested.

"Yeah, because Oliver's so fiscally responsible," Dig jabbed. "But speaking of, Felicity, where are you going to be staying?"

"Uh, my home? Remember: bed, socks? Excitement?"

"Maybe Oliver has been here so long that he doesn't know where _his_ home is," he said cryptically. Roy's brow wrinkled in confusion and Felicity took his words in stride but knew that they might hold merit. She decided to put it out of her mind for the time being and just ask Oliver the next time she saw him.

* * *

It was after dinner that night that she finally was alone with Oliver, but if she didn't know better, she would say that nothing was wrong with him. It was like any angst he felt earlier in the day was wiped away. It instantly made her suspicious.

"Are you mad?"

"What?" He looked up from his phone, his eyes questioning. "No, of course not. Why do you ask?"

"You just don't seem that excited about me being able to go home."

She watched in fascination as his carefully constructed emotionless mask slid over his face, smoothing out his features and making him impossible to read.

"Of course I am, Felicity. I know how much you dislike being cooped up like this."

"It's not the room! The room's great. I just, you know. Wanna be at home with my stuff."

He smiled at her: a true, albeit small, smile. "The room could be forty times larger than this and I would still hope that after weeks there, you'd want to get out of it."

"Then why don't you seem happy?"

He paused, ordering his words in his head. For some reason, he decided to just go with honesty, figuring that he wasn't doing anyone any good by silently stewing. "I am just trying to terms with the fact that you will be all alone. I know," he saw the argument bubbling on her lips, "that you have lived by yourself for years, and you have always been safe. This is a 'me' thing, Felicity, it doesn't have to do with you. I worry. And I know that you will be responsible and take all the precautions you are supposed to, but it doesn't change the fact that I will be very worried the entire time that you are by yourself because I..." He trailed off with a small shrug, unsure of where to go next.

"I was going to say that I was worried too."

It wasn't entirely true - she had been fully prepared to berate Oliver for thinking that she couldn't be on her own when she had done it for so many years - but what she said was still honest as well. She _was_ worried. And it went deeper than just being concerned that something could happen to her, that she could contract a sudden infection or something, and she might not make it to the phone in time. It was the loneliness that frightened her too.

Felicity Smoak had never been one to need other people. She was as self-sufficient as they come and she prided herself on that. She had learned at a young age that she was all she needed. Her mother's flaky absences and sporadic appearances had taught her how to get by on being by herself. Then as she got older, she learned that friends were just as unreliable. She had never been Miss Popular in high school with her weird looks and her freakish smarts, but she had known by then that _that was okay_. She never wanted to be one of those girls that _needed_ a boyfriend at all times and she was happy to say that the only person she needed was herself.

But then Team Arrow had happened.

Team Arrow which taught her that needing people was just a thing that was going to happen. She needed Oliver to save her sometimes, just like he needed her. They both needed Dig to keep them out of trouble (Oliver more so, of course) and Dig needed them, their purpose, their _presence_ in his life. She hadn't been aware of needing them, it had just gradually happened, and one day she woke up knowing that she needed these people in her life, and she needed to do all that she could to guarantee that they wouldn't leave her. And then she was diagnosed and she'd be damned if it wasn't clear to everyone how much she needed these people in her life.

Someone had been with her every single day since she had been admitted to the hospital. Not just Oliver, although his omnipresence was the one thing she hadn't counted on loving so much, but Dig and Roy too, not to mention Detective Lance. Even though sometimes they didn't say much, or she just slept the day away, or threw up non stop in front of them, the fact that they were there said so much to Felicity. They made her laugh when she thought she was drowning in misery. They brought so much to her life, or the shell of a life that it was currently, that the idea of being by herself and her own miserable thoughts was incomprehensible to her at that point.

She was struggling with telling Oliver that.

"I don't want to be alone with this...disease." And that was the heart of it. Her voice shook with the effort to keep the tears at bay and she loved Oliver a little more at that point when just his eyes softened at her words, but he didn't actually comment on it.

"And you won't be. You don't have to be." His hand found her's on top of the blankets and despite the familiarity of that simple gesture, him having done it for weeks now to give her some of his strength, she still felt it straight to her core. He was giving her so much more than just his strength at that moment.

"I've been thinking," he began, ignoring the spike in her heart rate at his words. "What if maybe, just for the first week or so...I stay with you."

In retrospect, it became obvious to Felicity that this was where the conversation had been heading the entire time, but at that moment she just stared at him in awe. She certainly didn't have the guts to ask that of him; she would never make the assumption that he would even be interested in doing that. But for him to offer was an entirely different ballgame, one that she would very much like to participate in.

"Just, you know. To make sure you're settled in. That you get into a routine or something."

"A routine," she echoed.

"Yeah. A routine." _With him_, were the unspoken words.

"I live in a one bedroom," she pointed out.

"I'll sleep on the couch. Or, I mean, I think I own that bed," he nodded to the bed that was still folded up in the corner, never having been touched. "We could always take that."

She grinned at him. "You sure you don't mind?"

"Felicity. I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to. So don't worry. It doesn't have to be forever. Besides, I think it'll make everyone feel better, knowing you're not alone."

* * *

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Have you really thought this through, Oliver?"

"I think it sounds like a good plan." All eyes fell to Roy. "But, uh, what do I know?"

Oliver had just finished explaining their living situation to Detective Lance, Dig, and Roy in the small waiting room down the hall as a female nurse helped Felicity shower and prepare to be discharged.

"It _is_ a good plan," Oliver insisted. "This way, Felicity isn't alone and we can all rest easier."

"Yeah, I'll be resting a lot thinking about you sleeping in the same bed as the girl I think of as a daughter, yeah, great. Thanks."

"First of all, I will be on her couch."

"What's gonna happen when people see you leaving her place? She didn't want this to get out and now you're just gonna be _living_ there?"

"Yeah, Oliver, what's gonna happen when people see you leaving her place?" Dig's words were rife with double meaning, his mind racing with what this might potentially mean for Team Arrow.

"I will be discreet."

"Discreet! Oh, good. Oliver Queen will be discreet, I can die a happy man." Lance paced around the small room, arms waving wildly, before he came to a stop in front of Oliver. "You don't see it, because you're always blinded by your own damn stupidity, but this could hurt her, Queen. In a lot of different ways."

"I'm not going to hurt her." He worked to make his tone even, intent on not appearing the least bit perturbed by the cop in his face, but the truth was that he had those same thoughts. But the idea of putting Felicity in harm's way by being there for her trumped the idea of her going through this alone. At least if he was there, he could do everything in his power to protect her.

Lance muttered something before walking away, and Oliver met Dig's eyes warily.

"Anything you'd like to add? Maybe question my intelligence as well?"

"I've always known you were an idiot." Dig moved to follow the detective.

"That's it?"

"You never listen to a word I say when it comes to decisions you've already made, so I don't know why you'd start now. Besides, if Felicity wants you there, then that's where you have to be. Simple as that."

As Dig walked down the hall, back towards her room, Oliver turned to Roy who held his hands up innocently.

"Hey, I agreed with you."

"Don't remind me."

* * *

"So," she did a little twirl, "this is my home."

"Felicity, I've been here before."

Not only had Oliver been there before, but he had been sitting on her couch for the last hour. They were finally alone after getting home from the hospital with her entourage, as Felicity affectionately referred to them. Lance had insisted on taking her home in his cruiser, and Oliver was fairly certain that he had given her a long talking to about the dangers and pitfalls of having him stay with her, but to Felicity's credit, she didn't seem to be rethinking anything.

"I know that…" She batted away the stray balloon from the bouquet Roy had given her. The dozens that now littered her apartment were hot pink and shiny and they all had variations of 'happy birthday' written on them. She thought it was the perfect, most ridiculous gift.

"You don't need to act any differently with me here. You can relax."

"I am relaxed!"

"You've been walking around the room for ten minutes."

Oh. She had, hadn't she? It was strange seeing Oliver here, in her own place, looking so comfortable. He was sprawled on her couch, his arms resting on the back of the cushions, and he looked like he did this every day. Like it was just a normal position for him. Like this was _normal_. It was driving her crazy in the best way.

"I was going to say that we can just sit and talk and I'd tell you a little bit about what Team Arrow has been doing, but you look exhausted. Maybe you should lie down for a bit and then I'll wake you for dinner?"

She _was_ tired, and damn him for noticing. The day was so exciting for her, but it had drained whatever energy stores she had left. She had read somewhere that when you were going through chemo, once you lost your energy for the day, or event - it was gone. You didn't get a 'second wind,' you had to actually rest and recuperate.

Her mouth open and closed a few times, before she finally settled on what to say.

"Did you just call it Team Arrow?"

"Go to bed." He pointed down the hall where her room was and she knew it was no good arguing over this, especially when it was what she desperately needed to do.

"Can we still talk later?"

"We can talk whenever you want, Felicity. I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

And it was true. When he woke her up for dinner, they talked plenty. And not just about Team Arrow, but about everything. He told her about the time he was younger and had his tonsils out and his subsequent stay in the hospital after he had got an infection. He told her about funny memories and sad memories and she laughed harder than she could remember in recent history when he regaled her with some of his and Tommy's antics. She surprised herself by reciprocating; she tried to steer clear of anything too personal lest she get over emotional, but she did delight in Oliver's blatant surprise at some of her stories from MIT.

It was nothing like she expected. She knew that she wanted someone with her when she got home, but she had resigned herself to thinking it was going to be her and Oliver tiptoeing around each other for weeks, never knowing what to do or say around each other. For the first time, she allowed herself to think that maybe this whole thing - Oliver staying with her, their growing closeness, their friendship that suddenly had an actual foundation that wasn't based in crime-fighting - was the silver lining to her gray, chemo-filled cloud. That maybe this was supposed to happen to her, because her and Oliver were supposed to have this. Maybe everything would be okay after all, if he was here with her through everything.


	16. What If The Fern Needs Me?

**A/N: If I'm allowed to like my own chapters - I like this one. It has everything I love - Oliver being Oliver, Papa Lance, Roy saying something ridiculous, with just a hiiiiiint of the drama to follow. Keep an eye out for the For Darker Days chapter that is coming next though! I hope you guys like this one as much as I do. :)!**

* * *

Oliver and Felicity _had_ settled into a routine. The weekend had been fun, with them hanging out and playing games together, much to her surprise. She wasn't one for video games ever, really, and certainly not the type she figured Oliver would be into, all shoot-'em-up and battlefield type games, but he had surprised her once more. On Saturday afternoon he had shown up with an X-Box One, plugging it in and setting it up over her questions and refusals.

"Why are you doing this? Are you that bored here, Oliver?"

"No, but you are."

She spluttered at that, trying to deny it, but it was true. She was reading up a storm every evening, but reading required a lot of attention and she was so hyper aware of Oliver's presence, she was getting frustrated every time she read outside of her room. Instead she was watching hours and hours of TV, blowing through most major series' on Netflix. Oliver had drawn the line at daytime soap operas when she had been in the hospital and that rule carried over to now, so between that and the headache that she now got from staring at her computer or tablet too long and she was going a little crazy.

"I'm not bored, I'm just...I don't know what to do."

"Well, now you know."

"I'm not good at video games," she hedged.

"They didn't exactly have X-Box on Lian Yu, so I think we might be on even footing here."

She sighed. She was going to be bad at this, no doubt, but she thought that there might be a chance Oliver wasn't great either and that was always an interesting thing to see. Not to mention the fact that she knew she wasn't going to get out of this, so she might as well make the most of sitting so close to him on the couch that his thigh was burning into her's.

"What games did you buy?" She asked resignedly.

He didn't respond, just emptied a bag on her coffee table. She looked up at him, not entirely surprised but a little taken aback.

"Did you buy every game they have for this console?"

"There's really not that many out yet." She wasn't sure if that was a response unto itself, but just rolled her eyes as he continued. "I didn't know what you'd be interested in playing, so I thought we could just try and see which ones you like."

"You're an insane person with way too much money, you realize that, right?"

"Choose one."

"Alright, fine. This one," she tapped a cover, figuring it couldn't be _that_ hard and it should appeal to both her and Oliver.

* * *

And that was how Roy found them Sunday evening at 7pm. Pizza boxes scattered on the coffee table in front of them, an empty 2 liter bottle of Mountain Dew on its side, and Felicity giggling at the screen.

"Looks like nerd heaven in here," Roy laughed as he slipped off his shoes.

"Hey," Felicity spoke without taking her eyes from the screen. "As a nerd, I resent that tone."

"Since when do you play video games, Blondie?"

"Since Oliver makes really poor financial decisions when it comes to toys and I'm the lucky recipient," she grinned happily at him.

"These games are great though, I've played a few of them." _That_ got Felicity's attention.

"You have?"

"With Thea!" He defended quickly.

"How is my sister these days?" Oliver pinned him with a searching look.

"She's...okay? I told her I was coming over here tonight but she said she had something to do at home, I don't know."

"Well, invite her to come play video games with us. We are both absolutely horrible but it turns out, these games are for kids, so you can never die. Definitely my kind of video game." Felicity didn't want to harp on about Thea's missing presence, but she wanted Roy to make sure she knew that she was always welcome at her place, brother staying there or not. She thought perhaps she felt like Felicity was stealing Oliver away from her somehow, but she didn't know how she could right that misconception until she saw the girl face to face.

Roy nodded, scooping up a forgotten piece of pizza and folding half of it in his mouth.

"I'm going to go put on my pajamas since I'm practically falling asleep. Then you can take over for this guy," she jerked her thumb at Oliver, "while he goes out and patrols."

She disappeared down the hall and Roy cocked his eyebrows at Oliver. "Pizza and Mountain Dew?" He asked over the mouthful of cheese and sauce.

"The guy at the store said that this is what you eat when you play video games." Oliver shook his head a little, smiling. "I'm going to need to work out for a month to get rid of all that."

"Dig's at the lair if you want a sparring partner. Everything was quiet this afternoon but we think there might be something brewing with the Triad."

"Sounds good. And thanks for being here with her tonight."

"No need to thank me. I'm doing this for her."

Oliver nodded once, standing and stretching as Felicity padded back down the hall.

"I'm back," she announced, as if they hadn't just watched her enter. "You ready to get your ass kicked at Lego Superheroes?"

"Always," Roy said, sliding into Oliver's vacated seat.

"I'll see you later, okay?" Oliver waited for Felicity to meet his eyes and agree.

"I will probably be asleep but yes. You will see me later. Not that you watch me sleep or anything. I mean, I don't think you do, but that's not really something that you would tell someone, right? But I sleep _pretty_ hard these days, so I really wouldn't have any idea what you do. At night. Here. With me." She swallowed thickly, very aware of the words that had just come out of her mouth. "Be safe!"

To his credit, Oliver just nodded and disappeared silently out the door.

"'_Oh Oliver, please watch me while I sleep, it's so romantic! That's what they do in Twilight!_'" Roy's pitiful high-pitched imitation of her earned him a swift smack to his ribs.

"Shut up. And how do you even know about Twilight? And don't you even think about saying Thea because I know for a fact she hates that stuff."

And then both her and Roy were pink in the face, sitting on the couch side by side. He broke the silence first, grabbing a controller. "So am I Captain America or…?"

* * *

Detective Lance had stopped by Tuesday afternoon with the promise to be there bright and early the next morning with coffee for their standing date. He also made her promise that Oliver would be no where to be seen, which was easier said than done. He was being pretty good at giving her her space when she needed it and being the fun, relaxed Oliver that played video games with her at other times, but while he understood she needed him to give her and Lance privacy that morning, it still didn't mean that he liked it.

"Get out."

She was pushing him with all of her might, two hands planted firmly on his chest, and her socked feet sliding helplessly on her wood floors.

"What if Detective Lance needs me?" He questioned innocently.

"He doesn't, I promise. Get out."

"What if _you_ need me?"

"I have your cell phone number and so does Lance. Get out."

"What if the _fern_ needs me?"

"Oliver!" Her exasperation made way for a reluctant smile. She reached around him and opened the door to the hallway before resuming her futile pushing. "Get out!"

"Somebody call the police?"

"Detective! Hi!"

In one fell swoop, Oliver had somehow shifted his body so that he was standing slightly in front of Felicity with her wrists in one hand and his other hand hovering over the back of his waist where he always kept a switchblade. Detective Lance took one look at how he was positioned and figured that while the kid was certainly weirder after coming back from that island, so long as he was using his newfound skills to protect Felicity, it wouldn't be all bad.

"You want me to arrest him?"

"Him? Oliver? No, he was _just leaving_."

Oliver turned to Felicity, grabbing his jacket from the nearby coat rack.

"Call me if you need me."

"I will."

"Even if its something small."

"I will."

"If you even feel the slightest bit off-"

"Oliver."

"I'm leaving. Have a good day, Detective."

"Yeah, you too, kid."

Felicity shut the door after Oliver and led Lance to her couch, gratefully taking his proffered coffee cup.

"How's married life?"

"It's goooooo- we are not married."

"Mmhmm," he smirked. "Obviously."

"It's not that bad, having him around."

"Are you sure? I distinctly remember a stage in my life where he ate everything in _my_ fridge and slept on _my _couch and it certainly _was_ bad."

"I never knew that Oliver," she reminded him. "This Oliver buys all the food and plays video games with me and lets me fall asleep on him and drool."

"Sounds even worse," Lance muttered, but she didn't take him seriously. For all his gruffness, she knew that he appreciated everyone in her life simply because of that one fact - they were in her life. They supported her and cared for her and he felt better knowing that she wasn't alone every time he left her, which was a distinct contrast to a few weeks prior, when guilt gnawed at him every time he would step out of that coffee shop or out of her apartment.

"How's Laurel?" Felicity didn't particularly harbor any feelings good or bad towards Laurel, at least none that she'd like to examine too closely. She asked out of her caring for Detective Lance and even for Oliver in some sense, but she didn't have an investment in the woman herself.

"She's good. Busy. She keeps herself so busy in this new job that...I don't know," he shrugged. "Seems like she's trying to forget about everything that happened in the Glades, but we all know that's not possible."

"Someone wise once told me that the faster you try to outrun your problems, the faster they catch up to you." She smiled as she watched the familiar tinge of pink crest over his ears. "I'm paraphrasing, obviously, because you also said a lot of other stuff that wouldn't really work in any other conversation and didn't really serve the purpose that I was going for."

"Yeah, yeah, I got that. Thanks." He took a look around, noticing the subtle way Oliver Queen seemed to have slid into her life. His bags were in the corner. A shirt was hanging up off her coatrack. His briefcase was on the kitchen table. "You're doing okay here? Really? Things with Queen are...okay?"

"Things are good," she corrected. They were more than okay and she didn't want him to have any doubts. "It's nice, having him here. And I know that it's going to get a lot less nice because I've only had one round of chemo and I still feel and act and look the same for now and it can't last but I just - it's nice."

"You say that a lot."

"That things are nice? It's just a good way to describe stuff and it's generic enough that I'm not being too graphic but pleasant enough that no one really-"

"No, not nice," he cut her off, surprised at how he could still get baffled at how her mind worked, even after all the time they spent together. "You say that everything is going to change. And yeah, you might not feel the same and you might not _look_ the same, and those things might affect the way you act, but it's still the same you underneath this. You get that, right?"

Her eyes were curious and he thought maybe she really _didn't_ get it. He placed his coffee cup on the table and turned to look at her more fully.

"This cancer, this chemotherapy, it doesn't change _you_. You are still you, underneath the needles and the wires and the-the-the chemo stuff or whatever. Yeah, you might come out of it a little different, a little bruised and a little stronger, but that doesn't change anything. This disease can take your spleen, it can - it can take your _hair_, or even your blood cells, but it can't take _you_. It can't take who you are underneath it all."

It wasn't a revolutionary idea, which is maybe why no one thought to tell her something like that before, but hearing the words from Detective Lance's mouth gave Felicity pause. Was it true? Was that what she was really worried about? She realized yes and no.

"What if...what if I don't know who I am anymore? What if after all of this, I have no idea who is even underneath all of it?"

He took her hand in his, and she immediately noticed all the stark differences between his hand and Oliver's, her only comparison as of late. They weren't bad, just different. His had different callouses, built up from years of shooting guns and working on his house. They weren't the same warmth as Oliver, but they weren't cold or off putting. The creases and wrinkles were thicker, more pronounced with age and stress, and they stroked a fast, almost frantic pattern into her own hand. Oliver always maintained a steady beat, almost to the rhythm of his own heartbeat if she had to guess, but Lance was less practiced, and she realized he also wasn't in the business of trying to calm her down. He was using this as a way to get her attention, not the usual communication-laden embraces that Oliver was prone to.

His eyes were dark and fierce as she dragged her own away from their clasped hands on the cushion between them.

"Then I will _remind you_. You are Felicity Smoak, and you are more than your blonde hair and your insanely bubbly personality. You might lose your hair and you might feel like shit more often than not. But you will never lose who you are, which is a beautiful, smart, compassionate woman who fights for those that can't and who does the right thing. _That's_ who you are underneath all this and that's what is never going to change."

* * *

"Dinner?" Felicity stared at Oliver, her jaw hanging open. "Here? Tonight? Everyone?"

"I'm pretty sure that's what I meant when I just told you 'everyone is doing dinner here tonight.'" Oliver watched a myriad of emotions run across Felicity's face as he stood over the stove, stirring sauce.

"Why?"

"Because we wanted to see you."

"You see me everyday," she protested.

"We all spent a lot of time together in the hospital and despite the accommodations, it wasn't the happiest place to be. So tonight, we are having everyone over for dinner. It will be happy. It will be not take out. And you can just sit back and relax."

"How am I supposed to relax? I just...oh, man," she sank onto the couch, rubbing her forehead with her hands, trying to wrap her head around it. Instantly, Oliver was in front of her.

"Do you feel okay? Is anything wrong?"

A part of her wanted to tell him that she was feeling a bit sick, knowing that he would cancel the dinner in an instant if he thought her health would suffer because of it, but they had made a promise to each other before her treatment had started to always be honest when it came to how they were feeling healthwise. She couldn't risk jeopardizing that trust between the two of them just because she was feeling overwhelmed at the moment.

"No, I feel fine, it's just...it's a lot."

"It's not. It'll be fine. Go get ready."

"What do I wear?"

"What you're wearing right now is fine," he told her as he made his way back to the kitchen.

"Oliver, I am wearing yoga pants and an MIT t-shirt."

"And you look fantastic."

She cursed her body's betrayal when she blushed at his words as they warmed her to her core.

"Do you want me to text Thea and ask her what she's wearing?"

"Thea's coming?" Whatever reservations she had about having the gang over in her tiny apartment flew out the window at the prospect of seeing Thea and not being the only female for once. "Who else? Who else is everyone?"

Oliver gave her a true smile at that, seeing her light up. "Well, not Lance because I'm pretty sure he'd arrest one of us, but oh!" He pointed the spoon he was using to stir at her, sauce splattering on the floor. "Dig _is_ bringing Lyla."

"You got him to bring Lyla? I have to wear a dress!" She whirled away towards her bedroom, finally getting ready like he had asked her to twenty minutes prior.

"How did you get that from that?" Oliver muttered as he tested the sauce. Tasted delicious and homemade which was good, considering he was just thawing out some that Raisa had frozen for him.

* * *

"You really do look amazing," Thea told her for what had to be the hundredth time that night. Oliver tensed beside her but Felicity just put her hand on his leg, sensing that he was about to say something to his little sister. She knew Thea was just being nice and meant nothing by her words, and ever since her conversation with Lance the day before, she was trying not to hold her appearance in such high esteem. After all, it was underneath that would stay the same.

Dinner had gone so much better than she ever could have imagined. Lyla and Dig had left shortly after finishing the meal, but she was happy to finally have had met the woman that had recaptured Dig's heart. She was charming and pleasant but also had that same undercurrent of seriousness and business that ran through Dig. She could see why they would be drawn together and was happy that they were giving things another try. Not only that but Lyla had not once mentioned Felicity's diagnosis that had been keeping Dig by her side for the last few weeks, even though it had to have meant that she saw less of him. That ranked her even higher in Felicity's books, if that was possible.

Now her, Oliver, Thea, and Roy had retired to her living room with a bottle of red wine and some soft acoustic music playing lowly in the background. Felicity was nursing her glass, despite being told that she could continue to drink while on chemotherapy. She had never thought the day would come that her appetite for expensive red wine (this bottle was brought from the Queen's very own wine cellar) would be virtually non-existent. She might have been sad about that fact if not for the wonderful company she currently kept.

"Thank you. Although between the steroids and your brother shoving pizza down my throat, I'm probably the only cancer patient that has _gained_ weight while undergoing chemotherapy."

Thea let out a deep chuckle before seemingly catching herself, her eyes darting between the men in the room.

"You can laugh, Thea," Oliver reassured her from his spot next to Felicity on the couch, his arm draped over the back of the couch behind her. "Her jokes are absolutely terrible, but you can laugh."

Her eyes went to Roy, who nodded. "Her jokes really are pretty bad. You don't _have_ to laugh, but you can."

"You all just wait," Felicity accused. "In a few months from now, I won't have any hair and you'll all be laughing." She paused, evaluating her words. "Not because I won't have hair. That's not why you'll be laughing. But because I have cancer and you feel bad and then you will laugh out of pity and oh my god, my jokes really are terrible, aren't they?"

That drew a snicker out of everyone, most of which were nodding in agreeance.

"So when do you...go back? To the hospital, I mean."

"I have the next week free! And I finally feel good and not like I'm gonna ralph everywhere, so there's that. I have an appointment tomorrow morning to get my blood checked to make sure I can go out and be where the people are."

"Ah," Thea nodded. "Wanna go to Verdant? See 'em dancing? Walking?"

"I just want to go where they walk, where they run. Where they stay all day in the sun."

"Wandering free, you mean."

"I just wish I could be - _part of your world_." Thea and Felicity finished together, peals of laughter bouncing off the walls in her small apartment.

"What just happened?" Roy asked Oliver.

"I have no idea but I think it was good."

"Oh, I'm so glad you came, Thea. The other day I quoted 'The Colors of the Wind' and no one even gave me a second look."

"Ah!" Roy snapped his fingers, the proverbial lightbulb going off. "I _knew_ that sounded familiar! And you don't even own land!"

"I'm glad I came too," she told her with a small smile that was definitely a Queen family trait.

They hung out for a little while longer until it became noticeable that Felicity was fighting fatigue pretty hard. Her head had sunk to Oliver's shoulder and her eyes were staying closed longer than they were staying open with every blink. She was too tired to even move when her guests got up to leave and she assumed Oliver was too committed to being her personal pillow, as he just had Roy lock up for them.

He asked if she wanted to move to her bedroom but she didn't, wanting to relish the night with her friends for as long as she could. He wasn't too mad at her for taking up residence on his newly claimed bed, and he allowed himself the luxury of his arm slipping over her shoulders, holding her tightly to him.

He started languidly running his fingers through her hair, savoring this brief moment of happiness. He was so pleased that the dinner had gone well, and even more so that Felicity was now taking an active role in getting herself outside of these four walls. Barring any unforeseen complications at the hospital, she could spend the next night at the Foundry, doing what she loved and helping the city.

Which was why he couldn't control the soft swear that left his mouth when he looked down at his hand, now completely covered in the thin blonde strands of Felicity's hair.

* * *

**A/N2: Had to happen at some point in time, unfortunately. I hope everyone is happy that Thea is finally making an appearance! I love her character. Don't worry, of course - Sara still is coming back and there's Donna Smoak too, but for the next little bit, Thea really has a starring role in this story. If you're wondering where Oliver went when Felicity kicked him out of the apartment - a new chapter of For Darker Days will be up probably tomorrow night! Thank you all!**


	17. Forty Pounds Lighter

**A/N: :( :) :| ;( etc etc Not the total end to the hair saga, because trust me - that continues long after the last strand of hair falls out. But next up after this - Felicity's return to the Foundry!**

* * *

There was truly a war raging within Oliver as he stared at his hand that night. A part of him wanted to pretend it never happened, that nothing had changed, and she was healthy as a healthy horse. Another part criticized him and called himself a hypocrite; he had been upset when Felicity had held stuff from him, why did he think he had any right to do the same to her? And this concerned her _directly_. But as much as he wanted to wake her right then and there and tell her that the thing she had dreaded most was actually happening, he didn't. And it didn't have anything to do with hiding things from her, or even his desire for things to stay the same. He just couldn't wake her up.

He tried everything he could to stir the woman in his arms, but the closest he ever got was a whine and a moan telling him to stop. He wasn't going to scream in her ear, so he just settled for picking her up and taking her to her bedroom, lying her down to get some rest in a place that had to be more comfortable than his shoulder.

He decided that if she woke up the next morning none the wiser, he would tell her. He wouldn't be able to not. But if she woke up and discovered it herself, wouldn't that be even worse? He knew that this was the one thing that she had been dreading in relation to chemotherapy, and he was worried that if she found out on her own, he wouldn't be able to help her, and that thought scared him even more.

* * *

Felicity rolled over the next morning, grumbling when she noticed the scratchy quilt on top of her. It wasn't until she opened her eyes that she realized it was because she never made it under the blankets. Oliver must have brought her in there when she passed out on the couch. She wished desperately that she could remember some of that, being in his strong arms and having him carry her to her bed. It wasn't the most sensual of experiences as she was exhausted from undergoing chemotherapy but still - she could romanticize it in her head if she wanted to, right?

She slammed her alarm clock off and began to get ready, noting the time. She had a few different alarms set and the one that had finally roused her was the last-minute one. She had to get a move on. Having showered the night before for dinner, she wasn't going to bother this morning, especially since she was just going to the hospital to get blood drawn. She pulled on a black stretchy t-shirt and some jeans and hastily ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it into a ponytail. It wasn't until she paused to take in her appearance in the full-length mirror that she noticed.

The blonde hair stood out starkly against her black shirt. She was no stranger to losing hair; thick hair was always prone to be tugged out and with her chronic ponytails, well, breakage happened. But this was different and she knew it.

She ran her hand through her ponytail and forced herself not to gasp as it came away covered in hair. It didn't look as if it were coming out in clumps, but it was almost as if it was thinning itself. The amount of hair in her hand was what she usually cleaned out of her hairbrush in a week.

In a move almost distinctly Oliver, she picked up a hardcover book she had lying by her bed and threw it at the mirror. The satisfaction of having the mirror crack and parts of it shatter to the floor was short lived. She was never that girl that acted like this and she refused to let this cancer make her into something she wasn't.

She pushed down the thoughts and feelings that were trying to make their way to the forefront of her mind. She felt like she was being a cheater to the female sex anytime she got too invested in her looks. She had always - _always_ \- prided herself on putting her mind first, above any physical attributes she may or may not have had. It was why she didn't wear contacts every day and it was why before Oliver, she wore slacks to work more often than not.

Before Oliver.

That's what she was trying so hard not to think about. To not think about how Oliver had already witnessed her puking her guts up the week before. How he had to see them put ports and tubes and wires into her body, making her more freakshow than human. How he was going to watch her hair fall out and have her become less woman, less _Felicity_. How no one, let alone Oliver Queen, Starling City's most eligible vigilante and bachelor, would ever want a woman that looked like her. A half shell of what a beautiful twenty-something female was supposed to look like.

She couldn't let herself think about that. So she just wouldn't. Her stellar denial abilities were going to get a real workout with this disease.

She took deep breaths as she sat on her bed and waited for the inevitable dramatic entrance by Oliver Queen. When it didn't come, she knew he was trying to give her space. Trying to let her work through whatever this was by herself.

She didn't want to.

She didn't want to think about it, she didn't want to look at herself or that stupid fucking mirror, she didn't want to ever have to say the words 'I'm losing my hair' aloud to anyone. Ever. But she knew she was going to have to deal with it at some point. She had to suck it up and deal with it because that was what she had to do.

"Being an adult is so _stupid_!" She growled out as she ripped off the black shirt and replaced it with a flowing yellow peasant top style blouse. It wasn't the prettiest thing she owned but it would mask any hair that decided to just quit being attached to her head that day, and that would afford her with the time she was going to need to decide what the hell she was going to do.

Plain black flats and her purse were the last things she grabbed as she stormed out of her room.

"I don't want to talk about it," she told Oliver before he could even verbalize a question.

"O...kay?" He noted that her hair still looked as full as ever but there was only one thing that could get her so worked up and this had to be it. He would respect her wishes, however unhealthy they were, for the moment at least. Until he himself thought of the right words to say.

He understood that that might be a long time coming.

"Eat." He held out a protein bar and a smoothie for her to take for their ride in the car. She took them but grumbled about not being hungry. "I don't care if you're not hungry, just eat it."

"Thanks, mom," she bit out as she sidestepped him and made her way to the door.

"You're welcome." He prayed to some unseen force for the strength to make it through that day.

* * *

The appointment went fine and they were both home by noon with a promise from the hospital that they'd call later that afternoon with her final counts, but preliminary looks at her blood work were promising, and she'd probably be able to go out and be social as much as she wanted in the coming week.

The last thing Felicity wanted to do was see people.

Oliver understood that on some level, but on another, he felt as if all the hard work and progress they had made at dinner the night before was wasted on something she _knew_ was going to happen. He cursed the fact that he had no idea what to say to make it better, had no way to even understand what she was feeling. Which was why he didn't feel that bad about sending a quick text, and felt even better about leaving that afternoon.

"I'm stepping out for a bit, do you need anything?"

She shook her head as she swept up the mirror fragments that littered her bedroom floor.

"I'll be back later. Try and get some rest so you feel up to coming to the Foundry tonight." And he was gone before she could even tell him 'fat chance.'

Once she heard the front door close, she allowed the tears to come. Tears for her hair, for what this meant for her life, tears that Oliver had just _left_ her when he had to have known something was wrong. She cried for everything.

Thirty minutes had passed and she was still sitting on her bedroom floor, tears dripping down her face, when she heard the doorbell.

She clumsily made her way to the door, figuring it was just a deliveryman or something, but was surprised to see Thea Queen standing on her doormat.

"Thea?"

"Hey! What's wrong? Oliver told me you needed me…?"

Of course he did, because even when Oliver left, he didn't really leave. He didn't stop caring.

She ushered her in, trying to figure out how to tell her. She decided that actions spoke louder than words, so she silently lifted a hand to her ponytail and ran her fingers through it. She held out her fingers full of hair and just the sight of it made her cry harder.

"Oh, shit." That got a reluctant laugh out of Felicity. She figured everyone would be trying to make her feel like it wasn't that big of a deal that the honest reaction of Thea threw her off a little. "This sucks."

She sniffled and nodded. "It really does."

"So, what are we going to do?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, it's gonna be a bitch to clean up all the time since your hair is so long. I clog the shower with my own hair like, every day. So maybe we should cut it shorter? That way it's not so long when it's falling out? Or ooh - we can get wigs!"

"'We?' Don't tell me you're going to like, shave your head too in an effort of female solidarity or something, Thea."

"Uhhh no. Sorry. This head is too small to be hairless. But I was thinking about cutting it short recently so this is the perfect excuse!"

Suddenly Thea was on the phone, talking to her hair salon, and Felicity was sitting on the couch, watching the tiny whirlwind Queen stroll around her apartment like she owned it. Those Queens really did know how to make themselves at home.

In just the few minutes she had been there, Thea had already put a lot of things in perspective for Felicity. Thea had taken the whole hair thing in stride, just accepting it instantly and working to make it better or manageable without even questioning it. Felicity had gotten so stuck on the 'why?' aspect of it all that she never got to the 'how do we fix it?' stage. She just needed that hard shove to get her to move on, she supposed.

Suddenly, the younger Queen was standing in front of her.

"Come on, let's go."

"Go? Where? Now?"

"Yeah, we're gonna do this hair business. What, did you want to wait it out?" She tapped her foot impatiently. "Come on, I got us appointments at my salon. Plus they have this entire back room of wigs and I really want to see what you'd look like with red hair."

* * *

Thea's salon was _nice_. Like, really nice. Nicer than the nicest hotel Felicity had ever stayed at. Probably bigger, too.

"Felicity, this is Harriet, and that's Tyrone." She introduced her to two of the most fashionable people she had ever met. "They are going to be our consultants today!"

Well, Felicity's normal consultant was L'Oreal, so she supposed this was an upgrade.

"So what first?" Thea turned to Felicity. "Wanna check out some wigs or do you wanna cut this mane off?"

"Can we do wigs first?" She asked timidly. "I think if I know that there's something waiting for me then maybe I won't completely break down when we cut my hair…"

"You are gonna look fabulous either way," Tyrone told her, pulling her forward, "But wigs first it is."

It was a wig boutique, the room they led them to in the back. Tyrone gently scooped Felicity's hair and pinned it to the top of her head and slid on a wig cap, before spreading his arms. "Try on whatever you'd like!"

There was only some soft smooth jazz playing out of the speakers in the room, but for the next hour, Felicity was convinced that she was in some sort of movie montage with Thea. She was actually having a really great time, which was not what she expected initially. She tried on plenty of ridiculous wigs she knew she'd never wear in public, including one that reminded her of her college days, which Thea mercilessly made fun of and demanded pictures, but she also found one that she thought would suffice for everyday wear if she needed it. It was long, blonde, and silky, and the quality was amazing. She was actually tempted to wear it out of the salon that day; if she wore that, it would look like she always had a professional blowout done.

Thea had found one she liked as well that was even longer than her current waves, with ombre tips, and she was currently ranting about how she couldn't wait to wear it to the club to surprise Roy one day. Her chattering continued as they were led to salon chairs side by side and the reality of the situation came crashing into Felicity.

"Oh, god." She stared at her reflection, her hair falling around her in loose waves, but even she could see the stray strands that were now sliding down the front of the black cape they wrapped around her, and she knew she had to do something. She just hadn't imagined it feeling like this. Her eyes met Tyrone's in the mirror, soft, patient, and kind. She knew that Thea had to have told him the situation. "Have you ever had to…?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Some of my other clients have dealt with this too. I can only tell you that once you accept that it is out of your control, it is as easy or hard as you want it to be. For right now though, you _do_ have some control. I can thin it out and get rid of the loose hairs now. We cut it off a bit and it'll be much easier to handle. You ever had short hair?"

She shook her head.

"Okay then, we won't go too short. If it keeps taking its time like this, you come back as often as you want to see me and I'll trim it up, no charge." He waited for her to nod. "So what do you say for right now, we do something like shoulder length. How does that sound?"

She heard from the chair next to her Thea's complete lack of preparation. "Just cut it all off. I don't know, like a bob or something? I don't have a picture or anything."

The girl's exuberance drew a watery laugh out of her and she nodded to Tyrone. "Shoulder length sounds good."

* * *

"It feels like I'm forty pounds lighter," Thea commented, twisting her head around in the sunshine. Her sleek, short hair no longer fanned out around her, but she did like it.

"I know what you mean," Felicity agreed, refusing to give in to the desire to run her fingers through her hair. It hung around her shoulders now with a soft curl at the end and while she had never had hair styled like this before, she had to admit that she kind of liked it. If only she could keep it.

Tyrone was pretty informative with this hair business, and he told her that there were no products out there to stop or slow hair loss due to chemotherapy. But the one thing she could do was not tug on it or run her fingers through it too often, and to wait until she was home alone to brush it out and take care of the loose hair then. He talked to her the entire time as he cut her hair, even when tears were streaming down her face at the sight of so much hair on the floor. He had done a spectacular job though, and the way her hair was styled, it was just lighter and bouncier; only upon an in depth analysis would anyone realize that her hair was thinning in ways that were beyond nature.

"So what do you say? Early dinner at Sur la Sandwich?" Thea nodded to a restaurant a block away. "Come on - we look good, we feel good...we do feel good, right? I'm not like, keeping you out past your bedtime or something?"

"It's 5pm, Thea."

"Hey, I'm new to this!"

She agreed pretty easily to dinner, surprised at the energy she still had. Her eyes were open and in no danger of closing and that fact alone deserved some celebrating.

That wasn't necessarily the case when they got home at around 7:30. She felt the pull of lethargy and didn't want to admit to Oliver that she might not make it to the Foundry that night.

"Hey, I thought you'd be gone by now," Felicity spoke as she took in Oliver's form sitting at the table with his QC laptop in front of him.

He turned to face her, smiling easily. "Wanted to see you before I headed out." He studied her form for a moment before turning back to his computer. Felicity's jaw dropped.

"What, that's it? I don't even get a comment on the hair?"

"You look just as beautiful as you did this morning."

She glared at his back for being so sweet. Of course he'd say something perfect like that.

"How was dinner at Sur la Sandwich?"

"How did you know...did you have us followed?"

"I didn't need to. Apparently you and my sister's hair escapades warranted being followed by someone else." He clicked a few windows in his browser and brought up Starling City's most prominent gossip blog, where her and Thea's pictures were prominently on display.

She elbowed him as she leaned down to read the blurb underneath the pictures. "I knew you didn't seem that surprised at my hair," she muttered, trying to ignore how close she was to his face as she stretched over his shoulder.

The piece wasn't bad or incriminating or anything. Thea's major hair change was news enough, and she was just referenced as a friend of Thea's who also worked at QC. She was actually surprised that no one had put together that she was Oliver's EA, but she knew that it was only a matter of time. The pictures were of them entering and leaving the salon, with Thea's new style being the main focus. She even smiled at a few snapshots of them walking to the restaurant - Thea had a way of being so childlike and joyful. She was spinning in a few shots and Felicity's face was splashed with mirth, laughing at her antics.

"Thea will be so happy that they called it a bob. She had no idea what hairstyle she was signing up for."

She leaned back and her and Oliver shared a look.

"Did I overstep my bounds today?"

"I think...you got your bounds just right today. They were good bounds that needed to be stepped on a little."

"Am I going to see you at the Foundry tonight?"

She winced. "I know you told me to get some rest and I really should have. I think it was just a lot going on today and…"

"Hey, it's okay. There's always tomorrow. And the day after that. And after that, too."

"What about Tuesday?"

"Maybe even then, too." He nudged her towards her room. "Go get some rest. I'll make sure either Roy or I check on you while on patrol tonight."

"Okay," she said behind a yawn. "Tomorrow. I'll be there."

She made her way to her bedroom, knowing that today was hard, and there would be other, harder days to come, but she knew that she could get through it if she had all of these wonderful people in her life still there. And as she sat in front of her new beautiful, ornate, full-length mirror that had just magically shown up in the corner of her room that day, she twisted her head back and forth, taking in her new hairstyle from every angle. It wasn't perfect, but it was as close as she thought she would get that day.


	18. Can't Not Be

**A/N: Happy Mother's Day to all y'all moms out there! Hope you had a wonderful day today. Hope this chapter makes your day even better ;) I'm so glad everyone was happy to see Thea's presence and support in that last chapter! This chapter has a lot more of everyone else - Digg, Roy, and of course some Oliver. I can't wait for you to all see what I have coming up next - I love sharing this story with everyone. There will be another chapter of For Darker Days after this one, too. :)**

* * *

The first thing Felicity noticed in the Foundry was the monitors. Last she saw, they had been shattered on the floor thanks to Oliver's stunning anger management skills, or lack thereof. Roy had cleaned them up and replaced it with a tiny monitor she had only briefly caught a glimpse of before she entered the hospital, but clearly that wasn't going to work in the long term.

Now on her desk were five huge flat screen LCD monitors, shining, shimmering, and splendid, if she did say so herself. They had to have been around 27" if she was estimating correctly, and they were all on stands that allowed them to be pivoted and positioned to different angles. She was in love.

"They're _beautiful_!"

"That'll be five bucks," Dig held out a waiting hand to Roy, who slapped down the bill with a sad shake of his head towards Felicity.

"Why'd _that_ have to be the first thing you noticed?"

"What else would I have- oh!" She hadn't even bothered to look around the lair, her eyes zeroing on her desk and not straying far since she had entered, but she now saw the tiny little changes that had been made around her second home and she had to work to keep the tears at bay. She really did appreciate these guys but she knew that they'd accept her gratitude a little better if it didn't come with waterworks.

There was a fluffy blanket draped over her chair made of the softest fleece she had ever felt. Small bottles of hand sanitizer had been placed strategically around the room. All the live flowers and plants she had been slowly accumulating were replaced with silk replicas, guarding her immune system. There was even a small mini-fridge now tucked next to her desk and a quick look inside showed her countless water bottles and fruit cups, her new obsession.

"I love it." Those words barely did her emotions justice, but she made sure to give them all extra tight, long hugs. These goofy, serious, badass men were just so wonderful to her.

After, she sat in her chair, soaking it all in. Oliver and Dig were sparring, Roy was running up one of the walls, working on his backflips, and she was at her computer. She hadn't realized that this was what she had missed so much. As much as her apartment was, the Foundry was also her home.

They were working on some suspicious shipments that had come into the docks where the Triad did most of their business, and Felicity got right to work. The huge screens didn't strain her eyes like the ones at her house did, and she was genuinely surprised when Oliver asked how everything was going. She had been working for three hours straight!

"How are you doing?"

"Like you haven't been watching me like a hawk." Her sweet smile took the bite out of the words that would otherwise sound accusatory. "I'm happy."

"I'm glad." His eyes were on hers again and they were doing that thing - that thing that she couldn't figure out yet, but it was happening all the time now. It was like his eyes were soft and open but still dark and mischievous, as if he was waiting for her to catch on to some joke he just told.

The clearing of a throat interrupted them.

"Right, so, Roy and I are going to go patrol, and we're going to see if one of us can grab that ship's manifest."

"Who on _earth_ doesn't keep an electronic log nowadays?" Felicity grumbled, earning the begrudging smile from Oliver. Another favorite.

"Are you okay to be here on comms with Dig, or are you getting ready to call it a night?"

She appreciated that he hadn't phrased it like, "or do you need to go home and sleep because you have cancer?" He was making it seem like it was just a regular night, BC, and she might leave early of her own volition. She was pleased to note that she felt pretty good. Her eyes were getting a little tired, but her body was still going strong. She could handle this.

"I'm good for this. Dig and I will man the fort. Well, he'll man the fort. I'll woman the fort. Although that kind of makes it sound like I'm going to dress this place up and while I mean, I did bring flowers a few times, it's not like it makes the place that womanly, it just kind of made it more homey and even men have homes-"

"I think we're good, man," Dig interrupted, pulling a chair up next to Felicity's. "Just like old times. _Exactly_ like old times."

She watched with barely concealed pleasure as Oliver suited up, the leather conforming to his body just the way she had missed. She caught Dig giving her a look and she shrugged.

"What? You said it was _just_ like old times, so…"

They left shortly after and she sunk back in her chair, reveling in the silence between her and Dig and the muffled thump of the bass from Verdant.

"You doing okay?"

She looked at Dig questioningly. This was the most broad question she was struggling getting used to, but she hadn't known Dig to ask it. He looked pointedly at her hair.

"Oh. That. Oliver told you?"

"He didn't have to, Felicity. You suddenly decided to cut off 6 inches out of the blue? I'm gonna notice that."

"You notice everything."

"It's in the job description. So. Hair?"

He waited quietly the few moments it took for her to respond.

"It's thinning. Not like, falling out in clumps but still...it sucks. A lot."

"I know I'm probably the one person in this entire thing that can't relate to that at all," he self-consciously ran his hand over her smooth, shorn head, "but every day that you fight this, I think you look more beautiful."

"I know it's just hair and that it'll grow back and all-"

"Hey," a big, warm hand settled on her arm. "You don't have to pretend like it isn't a big deal. I may not have any idea what you're going through, but neither does anyone else. Anything you feel, Felicity, we will respect. You got that?"

"For someone who doesn't know what I'm going through, you seem to know exactly what to say."

He huffed out a laugh. "Funny you mention it. None of us have any idea what to say; we don't want to make it worse, but we just want to be supportive. If any of us ever says something that you don't like, or that doesn't help, you just tell us, okay?"

"I don't really know what words I want to hear until I hear them, I guess," she mused, remembering Detective Lance's words from earlier in the week. "I don't know what I'm doing," she muttered.

"We'll figure it out together."

That was just the kind of promise she apparently needed to hear.

* * *

She had practically passed out when she got home later that night with Oliver, but she felt more accomplished than she had in weeks, which was saying something. Her body was waging a war against a disease that could very well be unstoppable, but she felt good because she hacked into some systems and traced some accounts. She wasn't sure if that was hubris or what.

She went in early to the Foundry the next day - well, more like afternoon, after she finally woke up from a near-comatose sleep - and worked diligently until Oliver told her she had to go home and rest. They had just walked in to her apartment with him suggesting a few different options for dinner when Felicity felt the room swim just a little.

"So, dinner? Raisa sent me with like, four different meals I can just thaw."

"Hm. I'm not really feeling well right now, but maybe later?"

"What kind of 'not feeling well?'" Oliver questioned, by her side instantly in the doorway to the kitchen. "Are you okay?"

It was a weird sensation in Felicity, and she really just wanted to lie down and pretend it wasn't happening. She was suddenly so fatigued and the idea of food made her feel vaguely queasy but every time she closed her eyes, the feeling intensified.

"Yeah, I think I just need to get some rest." And then she felt it wash over her and she blanched. A quick look down the hall and she knew she wouldn't make it to the bathroom. She practically shoved Oliver out of the way as she hunched over the kitchen sink, her heavy lunch of spaghetti and sauce not sitting well with her at all. She was dimly aware of Oliver right behind her, being extra careful with her hair, trying not to pull or jostle it too much. It was suddenly way too much and tears came on fast and strong.

When she felt like she was finished, she straightened up a little, immediately missing Oliver's soothing touch on her back, and she rinsed out the sink and started gathering towels to rinse and make sure she cleaned everything immaculately.

"Hey, I can do that, why don't you - are you okay?" He noticed the tears which were silently still coursing down her cheeks. "Do we need to go to the doctors?"

"No, I feel better, I just - I'm so sorry, Oliver!"

"What? Don't apologize. Are you sure everything is okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just...I'm so embarrassed and I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired and this is only the beginning and how am I going to-" Her sobs cut off her ramble and Oliver found himself wishing he had spoken up before she was unable to speak. Her own emotions interrupting her was officially his least favorite way for her to stop talking.

He gathered her in his arms and she sagged into his embrace easily. He soothed her with quiet words and she was pretty sure some of it was Russian, but it calmed her and she let it relax her and take the edge off of her emotions.

She didn't protest when he led her to her room and pulled out some sweatpants from a drawer and disappeared into the bathroom, reappearing with one of his own tee shirts. She just rolled her eyes and dressed quickly while his back was turned. He set about turning her blankets down and getting her an empty trashcan to leave by her bed in case she got sick again, plus a water bottle as she went and brushed her teeth.

She crawled back into the bed and he tucked the blankets tightly around her. Tears were still occasionally spilling out but she seemed much calmer.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled again.

"Stop."

"Why do you...why are you still here? All I do is puke and whine and I'm not even going to look like myself soon!"

"Hey, I don't care about that. Have you been worrying about that? I'm going to be here - I'm not -" He groaned in frustration, unable to find the right words for this inevitable situation. "I don't care if you have no hair, or if you gain seventy pounds, or if you lose thirty. All I care about is you. Being alive. _That's_ what I care about."

She nodded but kept her eyes squinched shut. She heard the words, but they barely processed. She knew that it was easy for him to say that now, for him to think that while she still had a full head of hair, and still looked the same for the most part. But what happened after?

"Look at me, Felicity." She peeked her eyes open, surprised to see the most serious look she had ever seen on Oliver's face while he was talking to her. He spoke quietly, in carefully measured words and with a cadence that forced her to pay attention. "I am here, with you...because **I can't not be**. Do you understand?"

She knew she was hyper emotional, but a part of her still thought that maybe he was telling her more than his words could convey. Her brain could hardly comprehend it, let alone believe it, but there was still this niggling feeling of hope that was creeping through her thoughts. Maybe…

"Felicity? Do you understand?"

"I...I think so?"

He nodded as if he had expected that response and his face instantly softened, the seriousness making way for a calm that she leeched off of. The fatigue was back and stronger than ever, and she felt her eyelids grow heavier.

"I'll be here when you understand."

"And the day after that?" She smiled sleepily, recalling their previous conversation.

"And the day after that," he agreed. "And the one after that."

"Good."

"Trust me. Get some sleep, okay? Call for me if you still aren't feeling well when you wake up and I'll bring you some medicine or crackers."

"Thanks, Oliver."

"You don't have to thank me. Sleep." And he kissed her forehead and was gone.

* * *

She slept until Monday afternoon and she knew her body needed it desperately. She was pleasantly surprised to have not noticed much shedding in the shower, even if she was taking painstaking care to not touch her hair too much, it was always relieving to see that it wasn't clogging her drain. She was also pleasantly surprised to find Roy on her couch in her living room when she greeted the day.

"Oh, thank god," he breathed when she walked in. "If you didn't wake up soon I was going to have to tell Oliver when he calls back in another few minutes and I'm pretty sure he would have called the police at that point."

"He's a worrywart. Speaking of police, did Detective Lance stop by?"

Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings were still their coffee date. She had mentioned that she might be up for actually going to grab coffee at their place near QC, but she had slept right through any semblance of morning.

"As a matter of fact, yes. He stopped by with some muffins and coffee but didn't want to wake you."

"Really? Muffins?" Her stomach growled loudly, desperately needing sustenance. Roy nodded to a bag on the table which she picked up and peered inside before cocking her eyebrow at him. "Muffins? There is one in this bag."

"I might have had one or two."

She rolled her eyes but smiled at him, tearing into the muffin. "This is not going to do it for me. I need food."

"Oliver should be home soon, I can call him and tell him to pick up some stuff for us on his way back."

"Where is he? And ooh, do you think he'd get some of that mac and cheese from the little panini place off Westlake?"

Roy let out a huge laugh at that, but she didn't understand what was so funny and told him so.

"Oh, you were serious? Yeah, of course he will. It was just really funny that you thought he might say no. Yeah, right. And he's at QC, or was anyway. Had a meeting with Walter about something, I'm not sure. Let me call him right now and I'll tell him about your need for pasta and my need for a hot pressed ham and cheese."

"Can't forget that."

"So," Roy's smile told her she wasn't going to enjoy the upcoming conversation. "I notice that Oliver's stuff is all still here."

"It's true, sometimes Oliver leaves and doesn't take everything he owns with him. He's weird like that."

"What I _meant_ was that his stuff is still here in your place. Not going anywhere."

She wrinkled her nose in confusion. "You're going to need to spell it out for me, Roy."

"'Just for a week or so,' 'just to get into a routine,' any of these things sounding familiar to you? I thought he wasn't hanging out here for that long."

He was definitely right, Oliver staying with her indefinitely wasn't really a thing that had ever been discussed. But he had been so wonderful lately, and in the wake of last night, she thought that them being together was something they both needed. She certainly wasn't going to be the one to kick him out - he could leave when he was good and ready, as far as she was concerned. She wouldn't beg him to stay if he wanted to leave, but until then, she was content with how things were going and was even surprised at how much she needed him. At how much she enjoyed his constant presence.

"I've only gone to the Foundry twice, why do you think I have a routine down already?" She deflected.

"Alright, if that's the story you're going with, I'll let it slide...for now."

"It's not a story. It is true. It is a nonfiction story. Facts. Very factual."

"I can tell it is by the way you won't stop talking about it," he laughed.

"Not a word, Roy Harper. Not. A. Word."

He silently picked up an X-Box controller and waved it in her face with a shit-eating grin. She just rolled her eyes and turned the TV on. She focused on that until Oliver waltzed into the room no more than fifteen minutes later, mac and cheese in hand and a smile on his face.

"Feeling better?"

She nodded. "Feeling hungry. Feed me!"

"As you wish."

"Do you need me at the Foundry tonight?" She asked around a huge mouthful and watched as the smile slid off his face and was replaced with a more hesitant look.

"I think maybe we should take it easy at the Foundry."

She put down her fork. "I'm fine, I promise. I won't stay too long, and if I start feeling even a little bit sick, I'll stop looking at the computers. I just like being around you guys there. It feels better. Please?" She couldn't believe she had stooped so low as to be begging to go to their secret vigilante hideout, but on the other hand - she totally could.

Oliver had a right to be worried, but he had to trust her when she said if she could handle it. She was going to be better about taking stock of her physical inventory and making sure she didn't overdo it. She _had_ to be better, especially if she didn't want a repeat of last night's less-than-pleasant kitchen activity.

"You'll lie down on the couch if you need to rest?"

"Oliver, I will lie down on _top of you_ if that's what it takes to put your mind at ease." Roy started to open his mouth to say something. "Shut up, Roy, that is not what I meant." She looked back at Oliver, eyes pleading. "I promise. I'll be good."

"Okay. But if you get sick there, we come home right away and you don't put up a fight."

"Not even a little one?"

"Felicity."

"Sounds good!"

* * *

Oliver played an hour or so of video games with her and they even watched an action flick on Netflix before she convinced him to head to the lair with her. True to her word, she was careful not to strain herself too hard, and the evening passed without incident.

She and him spent most of Tuesday morning there as well, with him crafting arrows and her updating their firmware and organizing computer files to make it more easy for someone other than her to use. She wasn't crazy about the idea of someone else touching her babies, but she knew she was smarter to make the process as painless and user-friendly as possible. She even walked Dig through some of her search software that she used and had him run a trial search on Oliver's high school records. The two of them spent the rest of the day making fun of him for his A+ in Home Ec during his junior year.

On Wednesday, she felt good enough to meet Lance for coffee and she relished that little bit of Post Cancer normalcy between the two of them. She didn't bother going to the lair, too tired to really make an effort to get there on a Wednesday no less, but spent Thursday afternoon there and spent quite a few hours Friday night monitoring comms and helping Oliver, Dig, and Roy, as they attacked some henchmen that were working for China White.

Saturday was a bit of a waste, having not gotten home from the lair until about 3 a.m., much to Oliver's distaste, and on Sunday, Thea took her to see Tyrone and get her hair trimmed a bit more and styled in a way that hid any thinning that it was doing. She knew that it wasn't going to keep - this last hurrah she was giving her hair was never meant to last this long, but she couldn't bring herself to cut it off in a more dramatic fashion when all it was doing was thinning. She told herself that the second it started to come out in clumps, or it had thinned so much that she could see her scalp, that was when she would do a drastic cutting (and subsequently commit to wearing a wig.)

Before she knew it, it was Monday, and Oliver was standing behind her as she stared at her reflection in the floor length mirror he had bought her, wondering what the next transformation she would see in herself. Would her hair go first? Would that be the most noticeable? Or would she lose a few more pounds by being sick again, and her prominent clavicle - already more noticeable than it had been a few months prior - be the thing that attracted attention the next time she stood in front of that mirror?

"Are you ready?"

She appreciated him not calling her out on one of her many self-judging expeditions.

"Can I say no?"

"Yes. But we're still going to have to go."

And so she turned away from herself, knowing it very well may be the last time for a long while until she saw that very same reflection looking back at her, and took Oliver's hand as he led them out of the apartment.

1 Chemotherapy treatment down, 7 more to go.


	19. Tablets and Trey

**A/N: Sorry for the delay with this one! I went to Georgia for a nice little vacation and could've swooooorn I'd have time to upload a chapter, but well, of course I didn't. I'll do another update on Friday! **

* * *

"I'm hungry," Felicity whined for the tenth time. She was a lot of things - hungry, scared, anxious - but the hunger was the only one she didn't feel like a huge baby for complaining about.

"I'm sure they could always do the procedures while you're awake, if you're that hungry," Dig commented without looking up from the newspaper he was reading.

"You are so not funny, John Diggle."

She was waiting not-so patiently to get her pre-chemo bone marrow aspiration and lumbar puncture done. Since they did put her under general anesthesia for that, she had been forced to go without food and her stomach was complaining almost as loudly as her mouth.

Her eyes looked to the door as it swung open and she sagged visibly when she saw that it was Roy. Roy and food.

"I know there is no way that you're going to be eating that in front of me right now."

Taking one look around the room, Roy noted a small head shake from Oliver and raised eyebrows from Dig, while Detective Lance was just watching curiously.

Without a word, Roy spun around and headed back outside to finish his egg McMuffin.

"What are you going to want to eat when you wake up?" Oliver distracted her with the notion of food. "I'll make sure it's hot and ready and waiting for you when you get back."

"Pancakes," she replied instantly. It wouldn't still be breakfast time by the time she got back and woke up, but that didn't matter to her. She had been thinking about pancakes and syrup for the last hour and just the mere thought of them being available to her made her stomach rumble furiously.

"Whoa. Pancakes it is. Do you want plain or blueberry?"

"Blueberry," she confirmed, not at all surprised that Oliver knew her preference, even if she couldn't remember the last time she had pancakes, let alone with him.

"I can't believe they haven't come and got you yet. They said you were next on the list…" Oliver looked distinctly torn, wanting to both stay by her side and keep her company and go find a nurse and demand to know what is going on.

"Since when has this hospital ever run on a schedule?" Lance pointed out. "Why don't you go find a nurse while I have a few words with Felicity?"

Oliver didn't have a good enough reason to disagree besides 'I don't want to,' so he and Dig left together after an encouraging smile from Felicity.

"What's up?" She knew there had to have been a reason for him to want to speak to her alone.

"I've been thinking and...I don't know, you might not even…"

"Detective, is everything okay?"

He took a deep breath before getting the words out. "How are you going to tell Sara?"

She froze.

"Is she back?"

"No! I mean, I haven't heard anything, but usually you and our friend know better than I do. Sometimes it takes her a while to reach out to me, but...but I know she said she'd be back before next month. And that's coming up on us quick."

The detective's relationship with his youngest daughter was unique in its own right, but Felicity felt that he was so grateful to have her back that he would never question anything that she told him. She knew that he wasn't entirely sure where Sara had gone off to - even she wasn't positive, but she knew it was League of Assassins business and she knew that it was probably more than a little dangerous. She didn't have a way to contact her and she wasn't going to put Oliver at risk either to try and reach out to tell her something like this anyway.

"I guess so…"

"I just wanted to remind you is all. You haven't had to tell anyone yet."

"I so have!"

"Having Boy Wonder figure out your secret from his personal radiation detector does not qualify as you telling someone," he pointed out. "And neither does telling Moira Queen, even if I might be jealous I didn't get to see her face when she realized you weren't in here for rehab. But maybe you should talk it over with your Arrow buddy. I just don't want to see you get blindsided by this."

He was right, she knew. She _hadn't_ had to actually say the words to anyone that she cared about. She knew it couldn't hold; she was going to eventually have to tell her mother and it was more than likely she'd have to tell others. She had few other friends in Starling prior to Oliver and Dig, and while they weren't really close, they did do occasional dinners and drinks and nights out on the town. Nights that were going to have to be postponed indefinitely now.

"Why is the idea of telling someone so awful?" She wondered aloud.

"You're a good person, Felicity Smoak. You don't want to hurt others."

"And yet here we are. Everyone is in the hospital and miserable with me."

"Miserable? This isn't my miserable face, kiddo. This is my concerned face. The second I start to feel miserable, I'll let you know."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Now, I've got to get to work. I'll try and stop by tomorrow and I'll be with you all day Wednesday."

"No work?"

"Nah, Queen said he has to do some business in the afternoon anyway so I volunteered to come hang out with you."

"I don't always need a babysitter," she protested. She didn't think she had been in the hospital for more than five minutes without someone next to her in any of her trips there since her secret came out. She didn't mind the company in the least, but she was starting to feel like everyone was hanging around her just waiting for something to go wrong. The more they waited and nothing happened, the more nervous she became that something _would_ occur.

"Who said anything about a babysitter? Could I be getting paid for this?"

"Hah hah, Detective. Shouldn't you be eating donuts somewhere…?"

"I'm going, I'm going, but think about what I said. Keep it in mind."

And she did.

In fact, that was all she could think about now that he mentioned Sara's impending homecoming. She had hoped that she would forget about it upon waking up from her procedures but all that she had achieved while shoving her face full of pancakes was thinking about how much _Sara_ liked pancakes.

To his credit, Oliver hadn't asked what Detective Lance had said to her but as he and Dig waited patiently with her before her next round of chemotherapy started, she figured she'd actually take Lance up on his advice and mention her feelings to 'her Arrow friend.'

"Do you...I could try to get word out to her," Oliver told her after she had broached the subject. "I have contacts in East Asia and they would be able to help."

"I could get Lyla to use some of her Argus connections," Dig volunteered. "They try to keep tabs on what the big players in the game are doing at all times. They probably know where she is, at least in generals."

"No, I don't think that's necessary. I don't really want to make her worried, especially if she's in the middle of something. But she's going to be back soon and I feel like so much has changed…"

"If you're worried she won't understand, you have a pretty good reason for keeping this from her." Dig let it remain unsaid that she hadn't had the same reasoning for keeping it from _them_, but he didn't look bitter anymore, which was something.

"Do you want me to tell her?"

Her sweet, understanding, complicated Oliver. Of course he'd offer. Of course he'd try and take this on himself, like he hadn't been the bearer of enough bad news to Sara Lance in this lifetime.

"I definitely do which is probably why you shouldn't." At his confused look, she elaborated. "It would be really easy for me to let you do this but I think I should try at least. But maybe if you guys were there with me…? I mean, this could all be totally hypothetical too. She could come back tomorrow in which case I doubt a lot of words would be needed as she sees me puking up my lungs as I get chemo."

"Whatever you want, we'll do," Oliver assured her. If only she had any idea what she wanted.

* * *

Four hours later and Oliver was grateful that she seemed to be handling this round of treatment better, but his optimism was reluctant. He remembered that it had taken her a few hours into the last time before she got sick. She was definitely responding to it though, as she was curled into a ball in her bed, latched on to his arm as tightly as possible, as if it were a lifeline.

She felt nauseous but it wasn't an urgent need for her to be sick, which she was happy about it. But she hadn't anticipated the absolute exhaustion that she as dealing with. With her first round, she had associated the tiredness with the exertion of being ill for hours on end. This time, there was no sickness but the shakiness inside of her wouldn't quit. It was as if her whole body had been used without her permission for hours on end and now she was _too _tired to sleep. So she kept her eyes squeezed shut, riding the wave of vague nausea and clutched Oliver's forearm in order to center herself in the room.

Dig looked at Oliver with pity and admiration. He couldn't be comfortable like that, there was no possible way. He was half in the bed with Felicity, his entire left arm disappeared under the blankets with nothing but the back of a blonde head to be seen surrounding it. The chair had been moved as close to the bed as possible but there was no way for him to re-position himself more comfortably without jostling Felicity, and that was a risk he wasn't going to take. Instead, Dig had given his free right hand his smart phone and he responded to a few e-mails and read the news on it. The room had been plunged into darkness again with the light aggravating Felicity's eyes, and both Dig and Oliver's phones were the only brightness in the room to be seen. Occasionally they would trade knowing glances. This was what they had signed up for. This was life in the cancer world.

* * *

Felicity got her wish sooner than she had anticipated.

She was happy that she didn't get nearly as violently ill with this round of treatment as she did with the first; she wasn't sure she could have handled that. She had gotten sick a few times on the second day but mostly it was the bone-deep lethargy that kept her down. By Wednesday she felt good enough to be up and talking with Detective Lance, and she was happy to note that he was still the same excellent company he had always been. He had plenty of snarky comments on Oliver and the private room but she knew that there was no longer any heat behind his words. If nothing else, her cancer had brought together two men that she thought would never be able to tolerate each other in the same room. Now, here they were, Wednesday night, having a civil conversation. She was almost happy about that if not for the fact that she was the topic of conversation and they didn't seem to care about that.

"I rescheduled this meeting three times, I can't miss it," Oliver told the detective. "Are you sure there's nothing you can do?"

"I have my time planned out pretty strictly. I could maybe be here for an hour or two, but I've worked it out so that I can take my time in the beginning of her treatment, like today. Two days in a row is pushing it for me. Why can't your bodyguard be here? You really in that much danger at QC?"

"He has to do something with...his girlfriend. He'll be here in the afternoon. And Roy is in Central City right now picking up a vendor shipment for Verdant. He could drive all night and be here by the morning but that's kind of pushing it…"

"_Or_, I could be okay here all by myself!" Felicity practically shouted in an effort to be heard over the testosterone in the room.

Oliver whipped around. "Felici-"

"I'm tired, Oliver. I'm tired now and I'm probably going to be tired tomorrow. And I can manage being by myself in a hospital room watched by three nurses for a few hours. So you are going to go to your investor meeting with Walter. And you're going to stop making Quentin feel bad for having a job too. Which he is also going to go to tomorrow. No questions. Is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am," Detective Lance nodded.

"Has anyone ever told you that you can be really bossy?"

"You didn't answer the question, Oliver."

"Yes. We are clear. I will suffer through this awful meeting. Fine."

"Is he pouting?" Lance asked Felicity, unbelieving.

"He considers it brooding, but yeah. He's totally pouting."

"I am not- I am going to go take a shower. Then we can order some food. Are you staying, Detective?"

He shook his head. "Got a meeting with an informant in a bit. I'll see you later, okay?" He dropped a kiss on Felicity's cheek. "Keep him in line, okay? If you want me to arrest him, just let me know."

"I will keep that in mind."

After Lance left, Oliver poked his body out of the bathroom door. Felicity ignored the spike in her heart rate machine when she took in Oliver's bare chest.

"You know there's not any charges that he could bring against me that could stick, right?"

"I could open that parking ticket back up from 2002 that I cleared for you."

His jaw dropped. "You wouldn't!"

"Try me."

"Fine. Choose some dinner. And then you can help me prepare for this damn meeting tomorrow."

* * *

She woke up the next morning when Oliver kissed her forehead goodbye as he headed out to be a productive citizen of Starling City, and she was surprised when she found that she couldn't get back to bed. It was only around 9 in the morning and she realized with delight that she had the next few hours to herself. Really and truly to herself. She had physio appointment with Steve later that afternoon, just to make sure that her lack of exercise these past few weeks wasn't causing anything to go wonky, but until then - the world was her oyster. Well, the hospital. Okay, actually just her room.

Well, that wasn't going to work.

After about an hour she was bored. If she sat too much, her mind ran away with her and she started thinking about Sara and her mom and the guilt was becoming almost too much for her. She had read most of the books on her tablet and even as she tried to reread her favorites, her mind insisted on wandering to dire topics.

"You look like you're 'bout to crawl outta yo' skin!" Her favorite nurse Mary commented as she took her vitals and checked her port.

"I need to do something, but I don't know what!"

"If you're up for it, you can come a couple floors down with me. I'm 'bout to check on the little ones before I go on break."

"Little ones? Like babies?" Was it too soon for her to be in the maternity ward, surrounded by other people's babies that she might never get the chance to have?

"Nah, no babies. Pediatric oncology unit. I like to check on some of the little ones doin' the battle. If you're feelin' like an adventure, maybe that'll help."

It was so easy for Felicity to forget that she wasn't the only one waging a war within her body. She was kept fairly isolated in the hospital and only saw other patients when she was headed down for procedures or tests or checking in. Maybe if she saw other people, _kids_, going through what she was, then she could give herself a little perspective. If nothing else, she knew that it would take her mind off of things.

"Yes! Please! Get me out of here."

She didn't have much experience with kids but she didn't let that dampen her excitement of getting out of her room. She had no idea what to expect but the activity room on the 7th floor was nothing like she had imagined.

Mary pushed her wheelchair into the room and the nurse was barraged with greetings and smiles from all the kids in the room, totaling about 6 or 7. They weren't as young as Felicity had anticipated, but apparently Mary had brought her to the 'young adult' room. There was another room for younger children down the hall that had more age-appropriate toys and activities.

She smiled at the teens and felt an unfamiliar ache in her heart. Was this was everyone felt when they looked at her? She saw these humans that had to have been average, typical kids at one point but were now all in various stages of sickness. Only two had any hair on their heads and they all were pretty frail. But they were all happy.

"Miss Mary, I think this tablet is busted!" A tall, lanky black boy with huge, bright eyes was spinning a tablet between his hands and grinning at the nurse.

"Do I look like the IT department, Trey?" She turned to Felicity. "A local company donated a lot of their old tech before they were bought out completely, but half the time we can't get it working right!"

She had an idea of which company donated it - a recent acquisition of QC, if she had to guess - but she perked up at the idea of being able to help.

"Do you mind if I take a look at it? Trey, was it?"

He shrugged and handed her the tablet. "You on Miss Mary's rounds too?" He asked as he rocked back on his heels near her. "You look a little old to be on her shifts."

"I will take that as a compliment," Felicity said with a smile. "And I have a private room upstairs. She helps out every now and then."

"Oh, so you're the one who stole her from us!"

She looked up, concerned that he was actually angry with her, but his eyes were sparkling and he was still smiling at her.

"Guilty as charged." She opened up the tablet's firmware and spotted the problem instantly. She updated a line of code and figured that she might as well make it a bit more secure while she was at it, and finally she handed the tablet back to the boy standing next to her. "Good as new. Better, actually."

"Whoa," he tapped it a few times, delighted when the apps opened seamlessly. "You are _good_. You got 'the little c' too?"

"Um - 'the little c?'"

"Well yeah. Everyone around here is always calling it 'the big c,' but we don't think it deserves the attention. Word like cancer doesn't get a capital letter."

She instantly loved this boy's enthusiasm and zest for life. She certainly could use some of that in her own.

"I like that. And yeah, I guess I do have 'the little c.'"

"What kind?"

"Uh, lymphoma." She hadn't exactly expected him to ask something like that, but she knew he wasn't being rude, just curious. "And you?"

"Osteosarcoma. Bone cancer man, it's a bitch."

"Trey!" Mary was across the room but she had ears like a hawk.

"Sorry! It's a _bummer_. This is my second time with it and I've just about had it with this shi- stuff."

"How old are you?" He was easily the tallest kid there, but she knew that didn't mean oldest.

"17. Frankie over there is 16, she's got leukemia, but I think it has to do with her lymph nodes too, like you." He went around the room, pointing out various kids and naming their ailments. "Alex is 14, she's got Medulloblastoma; Casey has astrocytoma, she's 13, and this is like, her third time with it. Cedric is 14 and has Wilms' tumor in his kidneys, and that's Lucy, she's 13 and has a type of leukemia too."

She didn't know what to say. She wasn't oblivious to the plight that was cancer and childhood cancer was an extension of that, but somehow, seeing it all right in front of her, seeing these kids that were such _kids _as they laughed and shouted around her and played video games, she was just...it was hard to put it into words. She suspected the kids didn't see it like she did, didn't see how special they were, only saw themselves as kids that drew the short straw, but it was just incredible, these lives in front of her.

"So are you like, a tech genius or something?"

"Or something," she said with a smile.

"How good are you?"

"Is that a challenge?"

"Now Trey, I didn't bring Felicity down here so she could hotwire your X-Box or whatever it is you want her to do," Mary chastised lightly.

"No, no, it's okay, Mary. I want to help. Is there something else that needs fixing? Something that has a microchip?"

"Can I show her, Mary? Please? Imagine if she could fix it!"

"Fine, but don't be disappointed if she can't. I don't want your hopes to get up."

"If it's a computer, you can let your hopes get a little bit up," Felicity stage-whispered. She was confident in her abilities and hadn't had a chance to do some of the little IT duties she had fun doing at QC in so long. Ever since she had become Oliver's EA her time had been spent on other, more worthwhile endeavors. She hated to admit that she kind of missed fixing malware and rootkits like she did in her previous job; it was a soothing activity for her, one that helped to clear her head.

She left her wheelchair in the activity room and allowed herself to be lead down the hall to a small computer room.

"We use it for homework, since most of us are homeschooled. Or our parents can use it. Hey, Miss Cassidy," Trey waved to a woman in her mid-thirties that was using a computer towards the door. "That's Casey's mom. This is Felicity, Miss Mary brought her down. She thinks she could help fix one of our PCs!"

"You're not from the pediatric ward, are you?"

Felicity laughed as she stuck out her hand to shake her's. "No, I'm not. Just came down to help. I'm in a room upstairs."

"Well, the kids would love it if you could help us with this computer since there's only a few of them here, but I'm not sure how much good it'll be. I used to work at Best Buy and I couldn't get myself to fix it," she shrugged. "I'm Stephanie, by the way."

"I'll see what I can do."

Trey showed her to the computer one down from Stephanie and upon booting up was the infamous blue screen of death. It had been a while since she had to deal with this, but Felicity just cracked her knuckles as she sat down before it. It was a lot different from hacking into Iron Heights, but within a few minutes everything came back to her and she was clicking away, working within the system to discern the problem. It took no longer than fifteen minutes before she got the computer up and running again.

"Hah!" She said proudly when the logon screen was prompted. "If you weren't a kid and we had bet on this and you had actually made the unfortunate decision to bet against me fixing a computer, you'd owe me five bucks, Trey."

"Whoa! You are seriously cool. Mind if I go ask the others if they have anything they need done?"

She shrugged her acquiescence. She liked fixing things and if it could help these kids get through their hospital stays a bit easier, she was happy to do so.

"What did you say you did again?" Stephanie asked her, clearly impressed.

"I dabble in IT."

"Dabble, huh? I guess I should've mentioned I just did customer service at Best Buy!" They shared a laugh at this and Felicity could sense that Stephanie didn't get a chance to talk to many other adults. "The kids will really appreciate this though. Thank you for helping."

"No problem, I'm happy to do it. So you're Casey's mom? I know Trey pointed her out to me but it was kind of fast, I'm not sure I'd know her if I saw her," she apologized.

"Yeah, she's a spitfire, that one. 13 and this is already her third bout with cancer. They told us she didn't have that much longer to live - only about a year, but that was two years ago. She keeps defying the odds, I've stopped trying to understand the statistics."

"Wow, that's incredible."

"Is this your first time…?"

"Oh, yeah. I was just diagnosed two months or so ago. I'm here for my second round of chemo but I haven't been out of my room in days so I was going a little stir crazy. My nurse, Mary, suggested I come down here and...here I am, fixing computers and tablets!"

"You mentioned a room upstairs? Is that the adult ward? I thought that was the floor below us."

"It's actually a private room," Felicity confessed, feeling a little self-conscious. Stephanie was clearly a single parent and the fact that she was in here using a crappy donated computer instead of a personal laptop or smartphone made it painfully obvious that she was not in the best financial situation.

"That must be nice," she replied genially. "Or, I mean, as nice as it can be, being in a hospital. And having cancer." She flushed, embarrassed, which helped to make Felicity feel a little less awkward.

"Are you from here?"

"Oh, yes. We live in the Glades, about an hour from here. Not the best area, but you know - after the quake, things got a little hairy. Our last apartment was demolished so we got a new place at the edge of town. We mostly stay here for her treatments though, and we've been having a real hard time keeping her white counts up, so...here we are. Week three."

"Wow," she murmured sympathetically. "I can't even begin to understand what it's like, watching your child go through something like this…"

"I'm sure it doesn't get any easier, no matter the age of your child. Your mom is probably going through the same thing. You just take it day by day. And when it gets bad, you take it minute by minute."

Trey interrupted them then, hands filled with various electronics - mp3 players, handheld gaming systems, a few tablets.

"Do you think you can help?"

"I think I definitely can," she said resolutely. "_But_, I am gonna need an assistant. I can't do all of this on my own, and you are clearly quicker at getting around than I am."

He knocked on his tibia, grinning. "They gave me metal bones. I'm like, the bionic man."

"You interested in helping?"

He gave her a hesitant look. "I ain't really good with math."

"Who said anything about math? You look like you're pretty good with your hands, and half the battle with these things is taking them apart. And I'll tell you something, you learn how to do that, you can get a job straight out of here. People pay big bucks to have someone know what they're doing when they're performing electronic surgery."

"Oh yeah? I'm pretty good with my hands. I bet I could help. And I do like to mess with some tech every now and then."

"Don't let Trey fool you, Felicity - that kid is smart as a whip, and he knows his computers."

"Well, good. Go get me some screwdrivers - I think I saw some in that other room next to the bookcase. Then come back and we are gonna fix these things right up."

* * *

She couldn't believe it when she looked up to see that four hours had passed. She had been steadfastly fixing the various ailments of the assortment of electronics Trey had brought her that she didn't even realize it was past lunchtime. She had been teaching him the different parts of the motherboards that they were looking at (she scoffed at his interpretation of being bad at math - the kid clearly understood more than he thought) and was happily chatting with him and Stephanie the entire time in between 'lessons.'

"This is the last one, your very own," she placed the very outdated iPod in Trey's hand. "You did a really good job with that one. If you want, next time, I could bring in some supplies. We could put in extra memory in some of those things, up the song limit and quality."

"You can do that?"

"Yup," she popped the 'p,' delighting in the fact that she was able to not only be helpful today but also enjoy herself. "And I'll teach you so that you can do it too."

"Always cut out the middleman," he fist-bumped her. "I like it."

"I don't know if that's _always_ a great solution, but-"

Suddenly the door burst open, slamming against the wall, and a very large, very intimidating Dig stood in the frame, his hand underneath his jacket and clearly on his holstered gun.

"Dig! What are you doing!"

"Felicity!" He visibly sagged with relief at seeing her.

"What? Didn't Marcus tell you I was going down a few floors?"

"Marcus told me you left _four hours ago_."

"I stayed a little bit longer than I meant to, yeah, but-"

"And you didn't take security!"

"I stayed inside the hospital!"

"Homegirl's got security?" Trey whistled. "You work for the NSA or something?"

"No, my 'or something' is that this bonehead is over-protective!"

"Did you just call me a bonehead?" Diggle was slowly shifting into his relaxed mode now that he saw Felicity safe and sound and not in any danger. "And did he just call you 'homegirl?'"

"I kind of like it," she laughed. "I'm sorry I worried you. I didn't take security because it wasn't necessary so don't you dare yell at Marcus." She took in his look. "You need to apologize to Marcus."

"What I need to do is get you upstairs before Oliver gets here. Plus, you missed physio."

She winced. "Fair enough. Trey, I'll see you later; Stephanie, it was wonderful talking to you."

They reciprocated and she left the room with Dig, who slung an arm around her shoulders. She instantly melted into him, not realizing how tired she was. She also hadn't ate since breakfast and she could feel the effect of that now more than ever.

"I made friends today," she told him happily.

"I saw. I had heart palpitations today."

"Good thing we're in a hospital."

"Anyone ever tell you that need to get better jokes, Felicity?"

* * *

**A/N2: Oh, Trey. I love him. And hopefully you will, too. It's important for Felicity to see/deal/befriend others that are battling the same thing she is. Trey's kind of the best. Promise.**


	20. You Ready?

**A/N: Guys, I'm so sorry. I know I told you I'd post on Friday, but I'm doing it a day earlier. I hope you can forgive me. :) Combination of me having a wedding tomorrow night to go to and being nervous that I wouldn't get to post, and also - I just can't wait for you all to read what's coming. I'm not sure if it sounds braggy when I write this, but I just love the interpretations of these characters I've created. (It sounds kind of obnoxious, I know.) But they are so fun for me to write and their dialogue comes to me so easily and I just - ugh. I have some of my favorite moments coming up, and I want to share them with you. Desperately. Okay, so enjoy this!**

**Next chapter update will be on For Darker Days, so for all my new readers (can't believe that people are still willing to give this story a chance! thank you!) - don't forget to go check that story out too, where I post Oliver-centric type oneshots that tie in with this. NOW - go read this!**

* * *

"You ready?"

Oliver had gathered up her overnight bag in one hand and was standing at the foot of her hospital bed as Felicity rummaged through her purse.

"Almost...okay, yes. I need to stop down a few floors though."

"What? What's downstairs?"

"Roy brought me some of my old stuff and I'm gonna go give it to Trey to see if he can work with them." She held up a ziploc bag filled with a variety of old electronics, most of which seemed to be outdated cell phones.

It was three days after she had met Trey (she was supposed to be discharged the day prior but she had been flirting with a fever so they kept her an additional night) but she had gone to see the kid every day. He was a fast learner and he seemed to really enjoy taking things apart and seeing how they ticked. Felicity remembered that stage from when she was younger and it was an awesome time if you had the right tools and support. Besides, going downstairs freed up Oliver for either Arrow-ing or businessman-ing and it gave her some clear headspace, which was a good thing for all parties involved.

"Okay, so we go downstairs, Dig can go get the car and pull it around back-"

"What? No! You are not coming downstairs with me. Either of you. I have worked hard on not mentioning working with Queen Consolidated and if the kids don't recognize you, their parents definitely will and that is a lot of questions that I don't feel like answering today. You and Dig go get the car and I'll meet you at the loading dock."

"Felicity…"

"I'll take Marcus!" She gestured to the silent security guard standing by the door.

"That's Ballard," Oliver told her with a small smile.

"Shit! Sorry," she called over her shoulder. She should've guessed. This guy was as stoic as they came.

"Ten minutes," he ordered. "You get ten minutes or I come in to get you before you get sucked into rebuilding a computer or something."

"Sir, yes, sir."

"Wiseass."

* * *

"See what you can do with these." She tossed the bag to Trey in his bed, who was looking a little worse for wear but not too bad. He was undergoing intense chemo right now in order to shrink a tumor that had popped back up in the last few months. Once it was small enough and not a danger to the surrounding organs, he would have surgery to remove it. He was in remarkably good spirits otherwise and despite his completely smooth head, Felicity had a hard time remembering that he was sick at all, with all the life and happiness he exuded.

"You just had these lying around?" His voice was laced with skepticism.

"Yup. And trust me, once you start taking things apart a lot, you're going to have a collection just like this."

"They work?"

She shrugged. "Some do, some don't. That's for you to figure out. You get it working and it's yours."

"So your G-man isn't here to watch me work on these? Not trying to protect any state secrets?"

"Nah, I'm taking him with me. But if you _do_ find any state secrets, you let me know."

"He ever talk?" He nodded to Ballard, standing as still as a statue by the door.

"Yeah, of course he…" She glanced over her shoulder before turning back. "I'm like, 99% sure he can talk."

"Cool. You take him with you and I'll get to work!"

"I'll see you around, Trey. I probably won't be back to stay for another few weeks but I'll drop by if you're here when I come in for outpatient blood draws."

She slipped out of the room with her silent shadow but was happy to see Stephanie sitting in the small waiting room down the hall.

"Hey, Steph," she began as she poked her head in. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you weren't alone."

"No worries - this is Ava, Trey's mom." A beautiful woman with the same shining eyes as Trey extended her hand towards Felicity, who took it eagerly.

"It's so nice to meet you! I'm Felicity. I was just down here dropping off some stuff for Trey."

"So _you're_ Felicity!" Ava beamed at her. "I have to thank you so much for what you've done for Trey. I haven't seen him take an interest in something like this in so long. You're a miracle worker, truly."

She felt herself flush with the words and instantly started to refute them. "I didn't do much of anything - he's so smart and he really has the talent inside of him to go far. The fact that he likes it and is willing to listen to my technobabble is just the icing on the cake."

"Don't sell yourself short. It is incredible that you're taking the time to work with him on things like that. I am still working two jobs right now, but I try to be here as often as I can - it just means a lot. Especially when Stephanie tells me that you're going through the same struggles as Trey."

"Oh, I'm not! I mean, I _am_, as in yeah, I have cancer, but you know, it's so different and he's so young and down here and I'm so old, well, not _old_ old, I'm just older than him, and I'm also now down here which makes sense because this is the pediatric oncology ward which is for children which I am not, so I just…" She trailed off abruptly at the look on the two women's faces. "I should go, actually. I was discharged this morning, so I'm just gonna take my...muscle man here and...go."

"It was wonderful meeting you, Felicity," Ava called as she quickly backtracked out of the room with Stephanie watching Ballard with watchful eyes.

Felicity elbowed the man at her side as he led her through the halls.

"_That_ would have been a perfectly good time to say something, you know!"

* * *

As per usual after being discharged, Felicity had all these grand plans as to what she would do when she got home, only to fall into a deep nap and waste away her first day home. She really needed to stop making plans like that.

She slept through to Monday morning, but woke up feeling more than a little refreshed. She felt oddly energized, which she knew was mostly due to the steroids she was on, but she also knew that she had to capitalize on it. She pulled herself out of bed and stretched her arms over her head and she even ignored the slight pull of the port inside her body (she doubted she would ever get used to that), determined to have a good start to her day.

Her heart sank as she stood up and looked down. Hair. Her hair. Not attached to her head anymore. It looked as though there was just a pile of it on her pillow. She ran to the mirror in the corner of the room, jerking her head around, trying to see the inevitable huge patch of her scalp that _had_ to exist, but she couldn't manage to see it.

But she knew what this meant.

She had been lucky thus far with her hair simply shedding and thinning. Sure, it was annoying and she felt like she left a trail of hair everywhere she went. Trey had laughed and said he wasn't sure how he was going to explain her hair all over his bed to his mom, but that only served to push the fact home: her hair was coming out whether she liked it or not, and it was a pain in the ass. Oliver was constantly picking hairs off of her shoulders - and his, too, given her penchant for resting her head on his shoulder - but she knew it wasn't fair for all of them to just have to sit and watch and wait for this horrible thing to continue to happen. It hurt all of them, having to witness her hair slowly fall out and the emotional toll it took on her.

She was going to have to cut it. Or buzz it. She didn't really know which she would prefer, but she knew she couldn't keep going on like this.

Walking into the living room, she was surprised to see Detective Lance and Oliver watching the news side by side, coffee in hand. Despite her current internal dilemma, she couldn't help the words that came out of her mouth.

"Is this the Twilight Zone?"

Both men turned at that, surprised to see her in the hall. Her socked feet on the wood floors had given her the bonus of sneakiness and she was disappointed in herself for not using it to her advantage.

"Thought I heard you moving around, figured I'd wait until you came out with the Detective," Oliver explained. "I can head out now, though."

Felicity nodded silently, still feeling a bit conflicted about her hair situation.

"Is everything okay?" Oliver stood from the couch and quickly made his way over to her, hands on her shoulders, his typical posture. "What's wrong? Do you feel okay?"

"I think today's the day."

"The day? What day? Which day?" Oliver's eyes were wide, and he turned to the cop on the couch. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Calm down. I just think today's the day that I…" She made a crude gesture and buzzing sound to represent cutting her hair off. "Can't wait to be the one with the shortest hair around here."

"You're cutting it all off?" This seemed to be a pretty drastic turn of events to Oliver, but he didn't want to stop any of her momentum if she was committed.

"Well, no, not all. They say not to shave it all off until it stops growing in, because it'll just be itchy and annoying otherwise. But still. I'm going to have to do something. It was all over my pillow this morning…" She choked back a sob that wanted to get out. She knew that this was something that she had to do, but it didn't make it any easier.

"Hey, shh," he soothed her, leaning down and resting his forehead against her's. "Do you want me to come with you? Do you need my help?"

She shook her head wildly at that. She didn't think she could handle him seeing that happen. She barely thought that she _herself_ could handle seeing that happen.

"How about...how about I call Thea? She can make you guys appointments again and go with you. How does that sound?" He didn't know a thing about what she was going through and he knew even less about females and their connection to their hair, but he knew that this wasn't something she should do all by herself. The look in her eyes told him that much.

She nodded her acquiescence and he quickly stepped into the kitchen to make the call. She wiped her eyes hastily before making eye contact with Lance.

"Sorry," she said self-consciously.

"If I could give you some of this, I would," he gestured to his floppy head of hair.

"I already went through a stage of my life when I had black hair. Not sure if I can go back." She made her way to the couch and sat next to him.

"Black hair, huh? I'm gonna need to see some pictures." She made a small noise of assent. "It's kind of a good thing, right? Means that this chemotherapy stuff is doing its job."

"I guess. I just don't want to...I don't want to look in the mirror and see this bald version of me. Like I'm some sort of cancer victim."

"You're a cancer _survivor_. Kick this thing's ass and make cancer a victim of _you_."

He meant it to be an offhand comment, something to take the edge off the entire conversation, but she saw it for so much more. She impulsively leaned over and hugged him tightly. She felt him startle a bit but he slowly wrapped his arms around her and held her to him. They both needed this.

"Thea will be here in about an hour, okay?" Oliver regretfully interrupted. "Your coffee's on the counter. I'll be at QC if you need me."

She mouthed her thanks to him and sat back on the couch, with Lance bringing her coffee to her. Her energized Monday was definitely taking a turn, but she had the best people possible to be with her.

* * *

"You ready?"

"No."

"Okay, well that was kind of just routine question. Our appointment is in ten minutes," Thea told her with smile.

"Think it'll look bad?"

It was times like these that Felicity was immeasurably grateful for Thea's presence. She missed Sara a lot and knew that she would have said some cute and witty quip that made her feel better instantly, but Thea's calm, rational attitude towards all of this was also very much appreciated. Not to mention the fact that she was a female, and she had experienced the trials and tribulations of a bad haircut. This was like that, only...more.

"I think it'll be different," Thea decided. "I think it will take some getting used to. But I also think that you have a gorgeous wig for the days where you don't want to get used to it, and I think that you'll love your hair so much more when it grows back in."

"_If_ it grows back in," Felicity muttered darkly, her mind churning with thoughts of never escaping chemotherapies and radiation treatment, of her living a life without the word 'remission.'

"Whoa, what? There's a chance it won't come back after everything?"

"No, no, I'm sorry," she sighed. "I'm just not really 'glass half full' today I guess."

"Well, the salon is the place to go then. We'll get this done real quick, then it'll be over. No need to worry."

And just like that, Felicity felt the dull ache of acceptance blossom in her chest. There was nothing she could do to change this, nothing she could even attempt that would make the reality of this less harsh. It was a fact of life that she had to accept. And once she did, she could move on and keep going with her life. With this fight.

* * *

"I won't take it all off," Tyrone told her softly, patiently, as she sat in his chair, tears streaming down her face. She didn't have to look in the mirror to know that Thea was crying as well. Even Tyrone looked like he was close to tears.

She nodded jerkily, flinching when she heard the buzz of an electric razor, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. He talked to her the entire time, spoke to her about the gradations of the razors and which one he was using in case she needed to trim it herself at home, told her that she was doing well, that it was almost over. Any other time and she might resent the fact that she was being spoken to like a small child receiving a vaccination, but not then. She needed something to focus on other than the vibrations coursing across her scalp and the sensation of hairs floating down past her ears, tickling her face.

She let out a loud breath when she heard the razor go off but still refused to open her eyes. Tyrone's soft, smooth hand coasted over her head, brushing away any stray hairs. It felt funny to her and she laughed aloud at the thought of Roy asking to feel her head. It just seemed like something he would do, when everyone else would be too nervous to even mention it.

"Doesn't look half bad," Thea said with a watery laugh.

"She looks beautiful," Tyrone agreed, whisking away the cape he had put on her.

She slowly cracked her eyes open, blinking tears out of the way until her reflection came into focus.

Wow.

She hadn't had hair remotely this short since she was a baby. It was...she didn't have words for it. She looked the same but still so different. Her cheekbones were more pronounced, somehow, and with her glasses on, she felt like she looked so young. It was only about half an inch long all over, and the thinning was barely noticeable, which she was grateful for. Her long blonde hair was a thing of the past, replaced by short dirty blonde stubble.

She barely recognized herself.

"Can I…?" Thea reached out a hesitant hand. At Felicity's nod, she gently lowered it, rubbing the hair back and forth on the crown of her head. "Whoa."

Felicity reached her own hand up, feeling the opposite side. "Whoa is right," she breathed. She was witnessing her own reflection and she _saw_ that she was touching her own head, but there was still this sort of disconnect. None of this felt real.

"Your head definitely is way too small to rock this, Thea."

She didn't know where the thought came from or why it had come out of her mouth, but as soon as the words left, she started laughing. Tyrone turned to Thea, nodding.

"You, my dear, have what we in the business refer to as a 'pea head.'"

Mock outrage floated over Thea's face. "What do you mean? This head is perfect, I'll have you know. And if she wasn't so opposed to it, I would shave this right here and now and prove to you how I can rock every look."

"Don't you dare," Felicity warned with a smile. She had no doubt Thea would do it, too, but after the gossip blogs had picked up and ran with her last haircut, she knew that there would be even more suspicion on her if she were to shave her entire head. Since they were trying to keep this all under wraps for both her and Oliver's sake, she didn't think it was crucial to have Thea's hair be a victim too. She did appreciate the sentiment though.

"As much fun as this is… do you think we could put on my wig now?"

She was surprised at how little she hated the hairstyle, but she was still eager to see her blonde hair back and floating down her back. She was hoping that there were no more photographers waiting to capture her and Thea's exploits, lest her sudden hair growth be public speculation, but she'd rather have that than be seen with a buzzcut.

"You're going to want to keep this on when you're wearing the wig," Tyrone advised as he slipped the wig cap over her head easily. "Without it, the wig will probably be scratchy and hot. This helps ventilation and ensures that it stays put. Use these clips if you need to."

"Oh, I've missed you," she told her fake locks tearily, holding big handfuls up to her face.

"Now you can style it just like you would your own hair, just keep the heat down to around 350 degrees on straighteners or curling irons. This is high quality hair right here, so if anything happens to it, you just bring it straight back here and we'll take care of it for you."

Tyrone fussed for a few minutes, positioning it just right around her face and guaranteeing the most natural curl. "Voila!"

"What do you think?" She spun towards Thea.

"I think that Happy Felicity is the most beautiful Felicity."

"You and your brother must have taken a course in 'Right Things To Say 101' or something," she grumbled good-naturedly.

"Speaking of my brother...you and I are going to get lunch and I'm going to ask you a lot of inappropriate questions about your relationship. How's that sound?"

"Sounds absolutely miserable but I _am_ hungry, so…"

"Perfect!"

The younger queen led her out of the salon and they made their way to the same restaurant they had been to a few weeks prior, Sur la Sandwich. They were seated quickly, a perk to being with someone who carried the last name Queen, and she wasted no time diving into the hard questions.

"So are you two like, dating now?"

"Dating?" Felicity spluttered into her water. "No, Thea, we are not dating."

"He lives at your place!"

"Well, for now. We haven't really talked about it long term," she remembered her conversation with Roy. "Besides, have you seen this?" She gestured to her body. "Not exactly dateable material."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that until I...until _this_...until everything is back to normal, I don't really see dating in my future. To anyone."

"Why not?"

"Well, for starters, I no longer have any hair."

"No one would be able to tell that looking at you right now," Thea pointed out. "Besides, there's no way Ollie would care about that. Don't be stupid."

She wanted to be a little put out at the stupid comment but the idea of Oliver actually holding her lack of hair against her _was_ a bit stupid. She didn't know how to explain her complicated relationship with Oliver to Thea though, so she settled on recounting the list that she kept in her own head and went over every single night.

"I get tired. Wouldn't be much fun to date me."

"We're out right now."

"I throw up all the time. I even got a mouth sore this last time with the chemo. I wouldn't be able to kiss anyone without _them_ throwing up."

"You're not throwing up now. And your sore went away, right?" At Felicity's nod, she continued. "Doesn't seem to be that big of a deal then."

"I don't have a job."

"You're on _leave_ from your job."

She grit her teeth. Thea looked to be enjoying herself with all of her countering points, but Felicity just couldn't make her _see_. See that it was just absolutely impossible for anyone to be with her at that time. It wouldn't be fair to someone! "I'm hospital-bound one week out of the month for the foreseeable future."

"Yeah, but from what I hear, you have a pretty kickass room."

"I have a very male roommate and bodyguard everywhere I go."

"Problem solved if you were to just date my brother," she waved a fry in the air. "Try again."

"I could _die_, Thea!"

Thea slowly lowered the fry to her plate, taking her time to study Felicity.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"You _guess_ so?" She was trying to keep her voice down to avoid attracting attention but she wasn't doing a very good job of it. "I've only done two out of eight…" She lowered her voice to a whisper, "_chemotherapies_ so far, and it is already taken a huge chunk of my life away. How am I going to be when it is six out of eight, or seven? I'm going to be this...half person! Not to mention that there's a good chance that this treatment that is supposed to save me will kill me. Add into that the fact that I might not even go into remission after this. This treatment could not work, and then where will I be? Where would the person I chose to let into my life be? It's not fair to someone else, Thea."

"Okay, I see where you're coming from."

"_Thank you_."

"But I don't agree with it at all."

"What?" This wasn't up for debate in Felicity's mind. She had just laid out her very rational, very well-thought out reasoning as to why she couldn't be with someone right then and Thea just needed to accept it.

"Doesn't this stuff like...isn't there a chance it could always come back? Are you going to live your life in fear forever and never be with someone? Not to mention that sometimes you don't just get to choose who cares about you, you know. And I'm not saying that men are going to be lining up around the block to date you because this is some scary shit, but if someone wants to care about you, there's not a whole lot that you can do about that. And have you just forgotten about Ollie in all of this?"

"What are you talking about? Of course not!"

"Well if you think that your reasons for not being involved with him will keep him from getting hurt then it seems like you forgot who Ollie is. He _lives_ with you, Felicity. He took a sabbatical from his job for you! He dropped everything in order to take care of you. If you're worried about hurting people around you if something happens to you then you should've really thought about that before you let him move in. If something happens then he is going to be devastated. It doesn't matter if you're together or not. Way I see it is that you might as well have some fun and sleep together before any of that stuff might happen," she said with a shrug, resuming eating her fries.

Felicity slumped back in her chair, staring at Thea.

"It isn't that easy…"

"Trust me, with guys, sleeping together is _always_ that easy."

* * *

**A/N2: See, not much Oliver in this one, so keep an eye out for all the Oliver you could ever want (impossible, I know) in a new chapter of For Darker Days - probably Sunday!**


	21. Team Felicity

**A/N: Oh MAN. This is a serious chapter. So much happens. SO MUCH HAPPENS. I probably could have divided it up a bit so it wasn't SO MUCH in one chapter, but this was the way I initially wrote it and I decided to stick with it. It doesn't all get resolved at the same time either so just...hold on to your pants okay. I don't want to give too much away so there's a note at the bottom as well. Hope you all like this!**

* * *

"You guys are all ridiculous."

Felicity couldn't help smiling every time she looked at Detective Lance and his short shaved head in front of her. He slid a mug of coffee and her muffin across the table to her as he settled into the chair adjacent to her at what he now deemed 'their' coffee shop.

"Thank you," she told him seriously. He gave her a warning look. "For the coffee! That's all. I would never dream to thank you for doing anything else that may or may not be very sweet of you."

She had laughed so hard she cried when Dig had regaled her with the story of Oliver and Lance's meeting two days prior. These sweet, stupid men, getting all riled at the thought that one of them had managed to beat the other to a compassionate act. It was so funny to her, but really drove home the point that she was surrounded by some of the best people in the entire world. She hadn't gone off on Oliver's hair, instead choosing to echo his comment of 'you look just as beautiful as you did this morning,' to him, to which he looked suitably affronted at the thought of being considered beautiful.

In reality, she just couldn't think of any original words that would do justice to how these men made her feel. Her idle comment about having the shortest hair out of the group was heard and more than that, it was addressed. She had been doing what she considered well at the loss of her hair, and Oliver's buzz cut and news of Lance's identical one did a lot to help that along.

Dig hadn't mentioned Roy's cut though, apparently feeling as if this was something the boy deserved to show off himself. So when he walked in Monday evening with a huge bucket of fried chicken and little to no hair, all the self control Felicity had disappeared and she promptly burst into tears.

_Roy froze at the door._

"_Whoa, I can leave and go get something else if you really don't want chicken-"_

"_Your hair!" Felicity's voice was muffled by the hands clasped in front of her mouth, but it was understood well enough._

"_Does it look that bad?" He self-consciously ran a hand over it. Thea had liked it well enough, if her very enthusiastic response in the storage room was any indication, so he hadn't thought it was all that big of a deal._

"_You idiot, I love it," she told him as she gathered him in a huge hug, a stark contrast to the typical displays of affection as of late, where she was the one being hugged tightly._

"_Official haircut of Team Arrow," Roy told her proudly._

"_We are not Team Arrow," Oliver called out from the kitchen where he was pouring drinks._

"_Besides, Lance got the same cut too," Dig told Roy. "And I don't think he wants to be on Team Arrow."_

"_Fine," Roy shrugged. "Official haircut of Team Felicity."_

_Team Felicity. It didn't sound so bad._

Those words echoed through her head as she stared unabashedly at Detective Lance.

"Stop starin', you're making it weird," he told her. She just smiled and began to eat her muffin. "I see you didn't go the black route, despite my advice." He nodded to the wig that she was sporting.

The long blonde wig made Felicity feel a hundred times more human, she had to admit. She didn't care if it was vain or stupid or shallow; all she knew was that this wig gave her the courage to meet Detective Lance out in public on that Wednesday morning, and nothing about that was bad.

"I decided to stick with what I know. Besides, I love bucking the 'dumb blonde' stereotype."

"Well you are certainly anything but dumb," he agreed.

"Just wait. Apparently one of the symptoms of chemo is 'chemo brain.' They say it'll make it hard to remember things and focus." She shoved a chunk of muffin in her mouth. "Just keeps getting better, doesn't it?"

"Can't say I'm too disappointed. Maybe now you'll be on even footing with the rest of us mortals and our brains."

She smiled at that and threw a tiny blueberry at him, laughing when he picked it up off the table and put it in his mouth. "And they're worried about _my_ immune system!"

"Me?" He held his hands up, a huge smile on his face. "I'm healthy as a horse. Nothing can bring me down."

"As healthy as a _healthy _ho-"

"Dad?" Laurel Lance stood next to their table, curiously taking in the pair in front of her. "Thought you had a meeting this morning?"

"Ah, yeah. I do. I'm just...stopping to get some coffee first." His name was called from a barista, signaling that his croissant sandwich was ready. He excused himself quickly, not really willing to leave the two females alone but not seeing another choice.

"Felicity, hi. Since when do you and my father get coffee?"

"Since...you know, a while." She didn't really want to get into this with Laurel, but she was the tone in her voice cause her to suspect that the woman was less accepting of her father's relationship with her than she had anticipated.

"I heard you took some time off from QC. You _and_ Ollie."

"Just ah, taking care of some things. It's not permanent or anything." She started to fidget, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. She didn't relish the idea of being alone with Laurel Lance on a good day, let alone on a day where she seemed to be focusing all of her interrogation training on her.

"And how is Oliver?"

"He's...good." Where the hell was Detective Lance? She knew that she was probably two seconds away from putting her foot in her mouth and getting someone she loved into some sort of hot water.

"He always did love long hair."

She could've sworn her heart stopped. What was Laurel playing at? Did she know? Had she seen? Had Quentin told her?

"I'm-I'm sorry?" She saw the detective making his way through the crowd, practically pushing people out of the way in his effort to get back.

"Your extensions," Laurel reached out and fingered a lock of her long hair.

Felicity couldn't help her instinctive response to bat the woman's hand away. This was _her_ hair. Her wig. She didn't need someone touching it, risking it moving. Not only that but this hair was her security blanket. No one was supposed to know!

"They're nice quality. Oliver really bought you the best."

"_Excuse me?_" Her anxiety was quickly being overridden by anger that was rising in her. For Laurel to come in and insinuate that not only had she gotten hair extensions _for_ Oliver, but that Oliver himself had paid for them? Like she was some kind of girl that could just be bought for a guy? It was insulting to both her and him!

"You got your hair cut shorter three weeks ago with Thea Queen. There's no way that it grew out this long in such a short period of time. That, plus Oliver always being around you? Taking time off to be together? It doesn't take a genius to put it together. But that's what you are, right? Some sort of genius?"

"You girls getting along okay?" Quentin finally made it back to the table and was quick to pick up on the tension. Felicity couldn't find the words to speak to defend herself to Laurel, so completely frustrated and disgusted with the woman in front of her.

Laurel quickly turned to her father. "You know, I thought it was just some sort of midlife crisis. The blonde hair that was always on you and the way you've been so busy lately. If you want to date some 25 year old then that's _fine_, dad. I just never thought that you'd settle for Oliver Queen's sloppy seconds."

Felicity spluttered at the vitriol, but couldn't get her mouth to form words. Chemo brain already, or was she just taken completely aback by Laurel?

"You are out of line, Laurel," Lance gritted out between clenched teeth.

"Am I? I'm not the one jeopardizing everything to date some blonde bimbo. You really think anyone on the force is going to respect you when they find out that you're dating the same girl as Oliver Queen?"

Quentin's eyes darted towards Felicity, who looked more shocked than anything. She was pale, her wide eyes taking in the scene around her yet unable to do anything about it, and her hands were shaking ever so slightly. For all her distaste for the woman, she knew she _had_ to say something to convince Laurel of how epically wrong she was.

"It's not like that, Laurel. Your dad and I - it's not what you think. It's just that -"

"It's none of your damn business, is what it is," Lance barked out. "You want to come in here and accuse me doing god knows what then that is your prerogative, but I do not have to stand here and take it. And neither does she."

He reached his hand out for Felicity's, who hesitantly slipped hers in his. She didn't want to drive a wedge between Lance and his daughter, in fact, that had always been something that she was very vocal about, not coming between the two of them. She had never anticipated it coming to something like this, to hear those kind of accusations.

"Come on, kid, let's get you out of here," he told her softly, leading her out of the shop, aware that Laurel was following closely behind.

"'Kid?'" She questioned once they were out of the busy shop and onto the sidewalk where she had run into her father just two days before. "Don't you hear yourself? Can't you see that this is _wrong_?"

He whipped around.

"What is _wrong_ is my own daughter standing there, yelling about things she has no idea about. What is wrong is the fact that you think you somehow stand above either one of us, judging like you understand what is happening. What is _wrong_-" He forced himself to take a deep breath and to lower his voice, stepping closer to Laurel. "What is _wrong_ is that you think you had any right to talk to your own father like that, or any other person. You better come to your senses quick, Laurel, before you say the wrong thing to the wrong person. They might not be as understanding as I am."

He quickly turned away, ushering Felicity to his cruiser that was parked nearby. She had met him there that morning but he didn't think she needed to be driving just then. He'd have Oliver and his driver pick up the car later.

"You okay, kid?" He asked her after a few minutes of silence. "She had no right to say those things, you know that, right?"

"I'm sorry," Felicity whispered.

"The hell are you apologizing for?"

"I never meant...you should've just let me told her, Detective. She would've understood."

"She doesn't deserve to understand right now. And I don't deserve to have my daughter accuse me of things like that. Not that you're not beautiful, kid, 'cause you are, but you're just a little too young for me. Not that you're too young in general, I just-"

"You've been hanging out with me too much," she interrupted, a smile pulling on the corners of her lips.

"Yeah," he laughed. "Guess I have."

"Are you okay?" She finally asked. His hands were clutching his steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had gone white and she noted the tick in his jaw from clenching his teeth.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Left my damn croissant sandwich there though."

She let him have that, not pressing for anything else. She could let him process the way he needed to, since he was always doing the same for her.

"Guess this hair doesn't look as realistic as I thought," she mused, fingering a few strands.

"Why do you say that?"

"Laurel complimented me on my nice new _extensions_."

"Well, I'm not entirely sure what the hell those are but I think the hair looks mighty fine the way it is. You wear that wig as much or as little as you want, don't let people like my daughter tell you differently."

He pulled up to her house and she insisted she was fine, that she didn't need him to come in with her. He sighed loudly at that but agreed; he had to get to work anyway. She leaned over and brushed a kiss over his cheek.

"Thank you," she told him sincerely before getting out of the passenger seat.

"That's a freebie," he called after her. "Don't think I'll let it go next time!"

She stuck her tongue out at him and waved as he drove away. What a morning it had been.

* * *

She closed the door to her apartment and sagged against it, closing her eyes.

"You're back early."

"Jesus, what the _hell,_ Oliver!" She jumped a mile at the sound of his unexpected voice. "What are you still doing here?"

Usually he went to QC or the lair or ran errands when she was with Lance. She hadn't known him to stay at her place. She _had_ seen his bike in the drive, but she figured Dig must've picked him up.

"Had a conference call this morning with Russia. Your internet connection is better than QC's."

"Hey, I designed QC's network!"

"Why are you back so soon? Everything okay?"

"I believe they invented the words 'train wreck' to describe mornings like mine," she lamented, relaxing into the couch. Oliver joined her shortly after, his mini office set-up at the table all but forgotten.

"Was it Lance?" He hadn't known the man to say or do anything thus far that would upset Felicity, but it was the only thing that popped into his mind.

"It was _a_ Lance. Laurel, to be specific. She found us at the coffee shop and you know what, I change my mind. 'Unmitigated disaster' is a better way to describe what happened today."

"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Ugh, she saw us together and just...I don't know. Freaked, I guess? She first accused me of having you buy me hair extensions which, I'll have you know that while Thea _did_ buy this wig for me, I could've bought it myself! She just said it was a gift and I let her because I thought it would make her feel better. And I think it did, and she gets all happy when she sees me wear it so-"

"Felicity. Is that all that happened?"

"I wish. She pretty much accused me of dating both you _and_ Detective Lance."

He didn't want to, but he could feel it happening. First just the corner of one lip, and then the other…

"This is _not_ funny!"

"I know, I know, it's not. But the idea...it's a _little_ funny."

She rolled her eyes at him and continued. "Well, Lance found it even less funny than I did and called her out on it right there in the middle of the shop. He wouldn't even let me tell her what was actually going on, instead he told her that it wasn't any of her business and drove me home. Speaking of which, I need to go get my car…"

"Roy and Dig can get it. Are you okay?"

She thought about that for a moment. "I guess. I feel horrible though. Lance _yelled _at her and listened to her say such ridiculous things and didn't even defend himself. I feel like I'm this huge roadblock in their relationship."

"Hey, you can't change the way Laurel thinks or how Lance reacts. That's not yours to worry about. And they're family. They'll work it out."

"And you? She thinks we're dating, Oliver. Not only that, but she thinks I'm two-timing you with her dad." She paused. "God, that really is a ridiculous sentence."

"Well, it's about time someone cheated on me for a change," he joked. "Felicity, half of QC thinks I got you pregnant. Even before you were sick, people thought we might be together. This isn't anything new. We'll deal with it like we always have, okay?"

"Don't remind me about QC," she groaned.

"I was thinking if you felt up for it, maybe tomorrow or Friday we could go into the office and see Walter." She perked up at that. "I know you wanted to tell him what was happening and this way people will see you without looking...you know."

"_Pregnant_."

"Yeah, that." He could see her internal debate raging. "It'll be good practice. You telling someone, I mean. I'll be there the entire time."

He had a good point. She wasn't incredibly close with Walter, but it would still be difficult to say the words aloud. She needed to get used to this a little bit if she wanted to have any hope to explain her situation to Sara or her mother when the time came.

"Yeah, okay. Fine. We can do that."

* * *

Which was how she found herself standing in front of Queen Consolidated at 10 a.m. the next day in one of her tightest dresses, nervously fiddling with her hair.

"Does it look okay?"

"Yes. For the millionth time, Felicity, you look incredible."

"You don't think I'm trying too hard?" Her royal purple peplum dress hugged every single curve she had, pronouncing her tiny - very not pregnant - waist and her skinny thighs. The wig fell in perfect place, looking like she just left the salon once again, and she had forgone her glasses in favor of contacts for some reason that she now regretted, having nothing to shield her from the rest of the world. She tugged at the neckline, quadruple checking that it covered any outward sign of her implanted port.

"I think if we stand out here any longer, the security guards are going to ask us to move."

"Okay, let's do it."

Her fingers itched to grab onto his and borrow some of his strength, but she knew that this was neither the time or place. There was no point to this little exercise if she was just going to be latched on to Oliver.

They made their way inside, nodding and saying hi to a few familiar but curious employees that they saw.

"So far so good," she muttered as the elevator brought them up to the executive floor.

"You're doing fine," he soothed. "I'm right here. Not going anywhere."

She was sure her heart was going to beat out of her chest as she smiled (or at least she _thought _she smiled) at Walter's secretary and followed Oliver into his office. This was terrifying. As much as she hated the way Oliver, Dig, and Roy had found out, there was something to be said for the lack of preparation. She hadn't had time to feel this sort of anxiety coursing through her body. For the last 24 hours, all she had thought about was what she was going to say to Walter, how she was going to spit out the words that now ruled her life. Her stomach had been turning almost constantly and her head pounded harshly with unspoken words.

"Miss Smoak!"

Walter's smile was genuine and it made Felicity forget for a moment where she was and why she was there. He instantly stood and made his way around his desk, embracing her in a light, gentle hug.

"It's so good to see you!" He took a step back and turned his head as he sneezed. "You'll have to forgive me, I seem to be getting over a bit of a cold currently."

Before she could even think about what that meant, Oliver had a small travel-sized thing of hand sanitizer out, offering it to her. She took it gratefully, slathering her hands and even her forearms.

"I'm sorry about that," Walter looked more than a little confused. "I don't think I'm contagious still…"

"No, it's not that," Felicity rushed to reassure the man. "Well, I mean, it kind of is that. But it's not your fault. You didn't know. No one knows, actually. It's a secret."

"I'm not sure I understand."

She felt Oliver's hand come down on her shoulder, rubbing small, soothing circles with his thumb. She could do this. He was here. She could say the words, she knew she could.

"I'm not pregnant," she began. "And I'm not in rehab or anything."

"I don't think I've actually heard that rumor."

"But I am...sick." She thought she might _get sick_ at that moment for all the nerves that she had, but she swallowed it back, focusing on the man in front of her and the solid, sturdy presence behind her.

"Sick?"

The silence was drawn out between them. This was it. She had to say the words. She had to tell this man what was happening. She had to, she had to, she had to.

She felt Oliver's chest rise as he took a deep breath of air and she knew that he was about to do it for her. To shoulder this burden, like he did with so many others, to do what she couldn't. She wasn't about to let that happen.

"I have cancer," she blurted out, feeling the hitch in Oliver's breathing. "_That's_ why I took time off from QC. And that's what Oliver has been helping me with."

"Oh, my dear." Walter looked physically pained, a look that she had seen many times before on Oliver's face, or Dig's, or Lance's, or Roy's, or Thea's, and it almost killed her. She was the cause of so many people's suffering and there was nothing she could do about it. "I would love to give you a hug, but I would never want to jeopardize your health. I'm sorry about earlier."

"It's fine, you didn't know. I'm...I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. Or that I didn't let Oliver tell you sooner."

"This is your secret to tell and I respect that immensely. Do you mind if I ask what kind of cancer you have?"

"Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma, aggressive, stage 4," she recited.

"If there is anything I can do-"

"You're doing enough. You're helping out at QC and letting Oliver take the time and...that's a lot, really. Thank you."

"Of course." His brown eyes were soft and open, and Felicity could see the emotions swirling there. She was glad she had told the man, despite how hard it was. "I must say, you look fantastic. I never would've guessed…"

Oliver let them speak for a few more minutes before clearing his throat. He could see that it had been tough for Felicity to take that step, and she looked a little worse for wear now.

"If you don't mind, Walter, it's been a long morning for us…"

"Yes, yes, of course, of course. Thank you for stopping by. Thank you for telling me, Miss Smoak."

"You're welcome. Thanks for...well, everything."

They left shortly after with Oliver promising to get him some revised paperwork he had been after earlier that week, and Felicity slumped into the passenger seat.

"You did it."

"I did it."

"How do you feel?"

"Honestly? Nauseous." Oliver's eyes widened in alarm. "No, don't worry, I just think I hyped myself up too much. I didn't get much sleep last night either, I was so nervous, so I think I just need to go lie down and take it easy."

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed.

He got them home without incident and tucked her in bed over her weak protests that she wasn't a child.

"You sure you don't need anything else?"

"I didn't the last five times you asked, so no. I'm okay."

"I'm going to leave the door open, okay? I'll be right in the kitchen if you need anything-"

"If you don't get out of my room right now…"

"I'm going, I'm going," he smiled at her grumpy face, eliciting one out of her in return. With one soft hand over her buzzed head, as she preferred not to sleep with the wig on, even for naps, he stood and made his way to the door. He stood in the doorway and watched her before she grumbled at him to go once more.

He woke her up at around 3 p.m. to see if she was interested in food, but she just grimaced and shook her head. He made her take her temperature as he watched, willing to be the over protective friend in this instance despite her glares. No sign of a fever, thankfully.

At around 8 p.m. she woke up herself, feeling clammy and nauseous, but determined not to get sick.

"You haven't used the bathroom in hours, Felicity. Are you sure you don't want to get out of bed? I can call Thea, if you want," he offered, unsure if it was his presence that might be embarrassing her.

"Just want to sleep," she mumbled. He took her temperature again, and it was slightly elevated, just up a degree, but not near the point of concern that they were told to go into the hospital for. At that point he decided that he would just stay next to her, monitoring, since he wasn't getting any sleep on the couch, doing nothing but worrying over her. If he had it his way, she would have been at the hospital that afternoon, but he knew how traumatic the hospital was for her. He was worrying out of his mind at that moment, yes, but he didn't think he wanted to risk the wrath of Felicity if she woke up unnecessarily in the hospital without ever having a fever that spiked high.

It was 1 a.m. when her whimpering woke Oliver up instantly. She felt like her bones were on fire, like her entire body was burning from the inside out.

"Can I have some Tylenol?" She whispered as he rested his hand on her forehead.

"I just gave you some a few hours ago," he told her regretfully. "Let me get you some water and I'll check your temperature again."

"I don't feel well," she murmured.

"I know," he told her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. This was the first time waking that Felicity had acknowledged that she might not be as healthy as she thought and that alone was concerning to Oliver.

He returned quickly and helped her sit up a bit, instantly worried when he noticed how her tank top stuck to her with sweat, despite the open window and the thin blanket she had on.

He swore when he saw the thermometer.

"We have to go to the hospital, Felicity."

* * *

**A/N2: So much! So many feels!**

**First - I know everyone wanted to see Felicity's reaction to Oliver's hair, but I didn't want to make it into too huge of a deal. Roy was enough, for me, and _Team Felicity_ is like, the cutest thing in the world. Dead. And trust me, like I said before - the hair saga is never really over. You never just suddenly get used to not having hair.**

**Second - Laurel isn't the bad guy in this fic. Honest to goodness. She's calling things as she sees them and while it might be frustrating, just know that she's not the villain. Just another person trying to figure things out. Also, the love I have for Papa Lance in this could PROBABLY MOVE MOUNTAINS.**

**Third - OH SNAP WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN NEXT**

**Love all of your faces so much! Thanks for reading!**


	22. Of All The Days

**A/N: Oh akjfhskdgjsdgk**

* * *

"We have to go to the hospital, Felicity."

"No, I don't wanna," she moaned. "I'm fine, see?" She pushed herself up, ignoring how the room spun slightly.

"I don't care how fine you think you are," he told her gruffly. "Your temperature is too high. We're going to the hospital."

"Fine," she muttered, holding on to him tightly as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"You need to use the bathroom?"

"Yeah," she slurred.

"Okay, I'm going to help you in there. Think you'll be okay?"

"I don't care how high my fever is, I'm not letting you see me pee, Oliver Queen."

He walked her to the bathroom, leaving once she began to glare at him, and rushed to get everything she would need for the hospital. They kept a bag packed for chemo treatments but this wasn't _like_ chemotherapy. Figuring that he could just have someone come by and get anything that he actually did need, he dropped the bag he held unceremoniously and ran to the living room. He grabbed their phones and quickly sent a 911 text to Dig, the one thing he felt like he was doing correctly. He knew that the protocol they had set up for this was to alert both Roy and Detective Lance and meet them at the hospital.

Meanwhile, Felicity managed to use the bathroom and flush the toilet, not to mention grab her wig. If Oliver was going to make her leave her apartment, she was sure as hell not going to go out there without the only thing that made her feel better on. She stood in front of the sink, gripping it tightly, trying to ignore the shakes that were running through her body almost violently. She felt cold and hot all over and the ache in her bones was enough to make her cry, but she didn't think she could muster the energy to at that point. With trembling hands, she got her wig on, but she couldn't make out her reflection clearly in the mirror in front of her. She went to turn on the faucet to splash some water on her face, clear her eyes a bit, but her hand missed the handle and she slipped forward, almost hitting her head on the sink.

She room started spinning and black dots danced in front of her eyes.

"Oliver…"

He heard the soft thump over her cry to him. He ran to the bathroom, heart sinking as he saw her lying there on the floor.

"Fuck, fuck, Felicity, fuck, wake up!" He tilted her head to side but it simply lolled back and forth. She was still breathing, but was completely unconscious. He bent down and picked her up, carefully minding her head and limbs, unsure of what he was going to do.

Did he wait for an ambulance? Did he call Detective Lance? Did he say 'fuck it' and just drive her to the hospital himself? It took less than a second to decide on option three, taking comfort in the fact that he knew he could drive faster than any ambulance in Starling City. He gently tucked her into the mini's passenger seat, buckling her up before tearing through the streets, trying to focus on one thing, and one thing only: getting her to the hospital.

* * *

"What the hell happened?" Dig rushed through the Emergency Room doors, immediately running into Oliver who was pacing in front of the swinging doors that led to the rooms.

"I don't know!" He was damned close to whining but he was trying his best to keep it together. "They won't tell me anything!"

"Queen!" Lance ran in, looking uncharacteristically rumpled, clad in jeans and a wrinkled henley shirt. "Just saw your sister and Roy parking. What the hell is going on?"

It was almost 2 a.m. and Oliver felt like he had been up for four days straight and ran a marathon on top of it. He rubbed his face before turning to the two men that were there for the same reason he was.

"She wasn't feeling well all day, but she didn't - I was monitoring her temperature. It didn't spike until this morning, and she felt okay enough but then she was unconscious and I took her here and they _took her from me_ and I don't know anything…"

He was vaguely aware of his words being nonsensical, but he couldn't stop seeing Felicity lying on the bathroom floor, not moving, not responding to his voice.

Suddenly there was a flying blur of brown hair and he found his baby sister in his arms, hugging him tightly.

"Is she okay? What's going on?"

"We don't know," Dig responded for Oliver, relaying all he knew to the newcomers.

"Shit," Roy mumbled, saying what was all on their minds.

Suddenly, the doors to the ER wing swung open.

"Oliver."

"Dr. Fox," Oliver breathed. "What's going on? Is she okay? Can I see her?"

"We've stabilized her," Dr. Fox explained, although he didn't look as reassuring as Oliver had hoped he would. "But her condition is still classified as very delicate."

"What. Is. Wrong. With. Her."

"She seems to have contracted an infection, and with her immune system being what it is right now, it spread rapidly and she has gone into septic shock."

"I-I-I don't know what that is," Oliver told him helplessly.

"Sepsis - think of it as whole-body inflammation due to an infection. I won't know for sure until her blood cultures come back, but I've seen it before in immunocompromised individuals. She's sedated right now and we're giving her a lot of broad spectrum antibiotics to combat this, but you have to understand that the chemo has damaged her immune system beyond what is healthy."

"Why-why-why do we have to understand that?" Lance spluttered. "You're fixing her, right? Antibiotics and all that?"

"We're moving her up to ICU and we're going to do all that we can for her, but…"

"But what?" Diggle asked.

"But it's still very touch and go right now."

"Touch and go?" Roy echoed.

"I can't give you anything more definitive until I know more. I'll have a nurse escort you all up to the ICU waiting room once she's moved and you'll be able to see her through the viewing theater. We can't allow anyone to get too close right now until her immune system is functioning at a higher level."

And he was gone.

Oliver's first instinct was to hit something - and hard. His muscles itched to, his hand was reflexively opening and closing, but he couldn't. He didn't have the luxury of letting go right now, not when everyone was looking at him like that, like he was about to break.

"Let's go," he heard himself say, herding the group towards the elevators. The ICU unit was a few floors up, he knew, and it didn't do them any good to be standing around in the ER of Starling General.

They made their way to the waiting room by the ICU, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with the other solemn patrons there. No one wanted to be in that room, waiting for news that would change their lives. No one.

"Ollie…" He turned around from his vigil against the wall, waiting to see if he'd be able to watch them bring Felicity up if she wasn't already there, and saw his little sister standing in front of him. She was wearing loose pajama pants and a tank top covered by Roy's red hoodie, which she was swimming in.

"She'll be okay, Speedy. I know she will."

"How?" She cried, twisting the long sleeves around her arms. "How do you know that? The doctor made it sound like...made it sound like..."

He grabbed her tight and held her to his chest, letting her cry out her fears and worries. "Because she's Felicity. She's not going anywhere. There's a lot more stuff that she wanted to do, and she wouldn't leave the world like that. She wouldn't leave _us_ like that."

He rocked Thea gently for a few more long minutes before she got herself together enough to go sit with Roy, who looked suitably lost. They held each other's hands tightly, not saying a word, just holding onto that connection between the two of them. It hurt Oliver's heart to see that.

"Lyla's on her way," Dig told him quietly. "Figured she should be here…"

"That's good, man. I'm glad."

"You don't have to be here, you know." Oliver's head shot up. What exactly did Dig mean by _that_? "I just mean - if you have to go, if you have to...I know you, Oliver, and I know you want to hit something right now."

"I can't leave."

Dig nodded at that. "If you need to, just let me know. Security is about a half hour out."

Oliver was barely aware of any other words that might have been said to him as he spotted a team of five nurses and doctors carting a bed to a room. Felicity. His Felicity. He moved almost robotically down the hall, stopping in front of the huge window that opened to Felicity's room. Someone must have spotted him because after a few words from a doctor, they opened the curtains more fully, in order for Oliver to have an unobstructed view. She looked so...different. She hadn't looked this vulnerable even after her major surgery. She was pale and somehow looked thinner than she had earlier that day, and there was a goddamn tube down her throat to help with breathing. This wasn't the Felicity that Oliver knew and loved. This was someone else.

"Mr. Queen?" Dr. Fox was suddenly next to him. "I need to go over some things with you, as her health care proxy. It won't take that long, I just need to talk to you with the trauma team."

"Yeah, of course, of...yeah. Sure." He stepped away from the window, away from her. He didn't want to look away for fear that when he came back, she might not be there.

"I'll stay with her, son." Quentin Lance appeared in front of him. "Go talk to the doc. I'll stay."

He wasn't sure if he even said thank you.

* * *

He tried his hardest to pay attention to everything the doctors were saying, but he had to admit that it was more than a little difficult. He was signing papers and agreeing to things he felt like he had no right to be agreeing to; it shouldn't have been his decision as to what medicines went inside Felicity, that was _her_ choice. Her choice that she couldn't make right then because she was unconscious. He walked back in a sort of stupor to the waiting room, giving a half smile to Lyla who was sitting by Dig's side, rubbing his back idly.

"What now?" Roy asked softly.

"We wait."

Oliver Queen had never been a patient man.

It was about 8 a.m. when a thought occurred to him and he sat straight up in the uncomfortable chair in the waiting room.

"What's wrong?" Dig kept his voice quiet, as Thea and Roy had curled up into a fitful sleep on the nearby couch and Lyla's head rested gently on his shoulder, eyes closed.

"I...I need to talk to Lance."

"He's making calls at the other end of the hall."

Oliver silently got out of his chair and made his way down the hall, nodding at the suited man that was now standing sentry at the door to Felicity's room.

He was talking softly on the phone, but ended the conversation as soon as he saw Oliver approach.

"Just clearing my schedule is all. Any news?"

He shook his head. "I need to talk to you."

"Okay...about what?"

"I didn't know who else to talk to about it - and I'm not even sure, I just don't know what to do…"

"Spit it out, Queen."

"Shouldn't I be calling Felicity's mom?"

"Oh." Lance's face fell with the implications of that. "She hasn't told…?"

"No."

"Oh, man."

It gave Oliver a strange sense of muted pleasure to see the detective look just as conflicted as he felt. He wasn't alone in this anymore.

"As a parent, I'd want to know, but…"

"But Felicity hasn't told her for a reason. And I don't want to break that trust."

Quentin Lance let out a low breath. What a clusterfuck this was, and it had only just started. He wished he knew what to tell the kid in front of him who looked so overwhelmed with every second that passed, but he didn't have any words of wisdom for this situation.

"What are you gonna do, kid?"

"Wait it out, I guess. If she doesn't -" He swallowed thickly. "If things don't start looking up, I'll call. I have to."

"Okay." He looked at him curiously. "You're not alone in this, Queen. That entire waiting room over there is filled with people who want to help you. Don't forget that."

* * *

Oliver hung around for another hour or two before yet another stray thought occurred to him.

"I didn't grab her tablet."

The group was indulging in terrible hospital vending machine coffee in the waiting room, crowded around one of the tables that had an assortment of donuts on it, courtesy of Lyla's earlier trip.

"Hmm?" Dig looked across the table at him.

"Her tablet. If she wakes up and doesn't have it within reach..."

"Think she'll understand that you were in a bit of a rush," Lance commented wryly.

"No," Oliver muttered softly, almost to himself. "I have to go get it."

"I can go," Roy offered. "If you want."

"No...I...I'm gonna…" He stood abruptly. He couldn't explain why it was suddenly so important to him, or why he _had_ to go get it just then, when Felicity was still fighting for her life in the nearby room, but he just knew that he didn't have a choice. He had to get it for her.

While everyone else looked perplexed at the sudden change in Oliver's mood, Dig just nodded resolutely. He tossed him the keys to the town car.

"Take Ballard. He's stationed down by the elevators. I parked out front."

"It was pretty quiet when I got back," Lyla volunteered. "You should be good to get out unnoticed."

He nodded his thanks and took off down the hall, confident that he was making the right decision. He was absorbed in thoughts about where the tablet was in the apartment - he didn't think it had made it to her bedroom the afternoon before, after their QC outing, and he thought he had spied it on the end table in the living room, but he wasn't sure.

A true testament to how lost in thought he was, he didn't even notice until it was too late. Suddenly, he was bombarded with shouts and lights and camera flashes. He was aware of Ballard's arm on his chest, slowing down his progress and shielding him from some of the more unruly photographers, but nothing was comprehensible.

Finally, the words began to become unmuddled, the sounds became more than just a cacophony of noises.

"Mr. Queen, who was she?"

"Mr. Queen, are you being treated here?"

"Oliver, was it Thea? Was it your sister and her friend that ended up here?"

"Mr. Queen, was she drugged?"

"Oliver, did she have too much to drink? Was she at your club, Verdant?"

He allowed Ballard to push him back into the hospital, the automatic doors sliding closed and effectively silencing the crowd. Lyla had said that everything was quiet - what had changed? How had anyone found out?

"Get them out of here," he growled to Ballard, who nodded curtly and took off towards the uniformed hospital security guards that were standing nearby. He turned to go back to the elevator and was acutely aware of the camera phones that had been taken out among the many that were sitting in the ER waiting room, monitoring his every move. Careful to give nothing away, he schooled his face to a blank mask and silently made his way back to the ICU floor.

"That was fast," Roy commented as he saw Oliver walk purposefully towards the waiting room. Dig and Lance, on the other hand, noticed his mood and posture immediately.

"What's wrong?" Dig stood instantly. "Where's Ballard?"

"Ballard is dealing with the news crews that have taken up residence outside the hospital."

"I'll call the PD," Lance said instantly, standing and pulling out his phone.

"What happened? What changed?" Oliver questioned the room at large.

"There was no one when I left at around 9," Lyla repeated. "Not even a news van."

"Well, they're here now. I want to know why."

"I think I know why…" Thea spoke up, holding her cell phone. "You're on the cover of every single Starling City gossip rag."

"What?" He grabbed the phone out of Thea's hand and scrolled down. Sure enough, the picture that was dominating the news cycle was of him carrying an unconscious Felicity into the ER and of the subsequent transfer of her to a gurney, and then a bevy of shots of a very emotional Oliver Queen prior to being greeted by Dig and Detective Lance.

While he was looking through Thea's phone, Roy had turned on the TV in the corner of the room that until then had remained off.

"In breaking news, Oliver Queen was spotted bringing in what looked to be an unconscious woman to Starling General's ER early this morning. Witnesses say that he was visibly distraught, with some suggesting that he needed to be sedated. Inside sources say the female is now in the Intensive Care Unit, with KBTV having the exclusive photo to prove it."

A photograph flashed onto the screen. It was of Felicity, taken from the window outside her room, showing the girl laid out and vulnerable on the bed, attached to all of her monitors. Oliver, who had grabbed the remote out of Roy's hands to turn up the volume, threw it against the wall, watching it shatter satisfyingly.

"The hell kind of security is this, Diggle?" His voice was eerily calm.

"We don't know when that photo was taken, Oliver."

"The hell we don't, we have been sitting here the entire time. I was _watching_ the entire time before security showed up!"

"Just like you were watching your surroundings downstairs, when you brought Felicity in?" Dig wasn't trying to be unkind, he was just trying to get the man to see reason. "You didn't see that person take photos of your downstairs either. So you missed something. It happens. No one here blames you except for you."

Oliver blew out a frustrated breath, pacing the small waiting room.

"Until we know when that photo was taken, I'm not risking yelling at two of our best security guys for fucking up. As far as we know, that was taken the second she was brought up here. She still has her wig on in that photo, and you and I both know that they didn't let that last very long. Let's just work from there, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Oliver acquiesced. "Is there anyway we can know who took the pictures?"

"I can try, but…" The unspoken words were left hanging. The only person who could definitely find out the origin of that picture was currently in a medically induced coma twenty yards down the hall.

"You guys are taking this _really_ seriously," Thea commented.

"She didn't want anyone to know, Thea," Oliver explained. "Her mom doesn't even know. If they find out who she is and this is made public knowledge...she just wanted to have a low profile. Me being here is going to attract nothing but attention and speculation."

"Okay, sure. Yeah, I get it. What can I do?"

He was so very proud of his little sister in that moment.

"Uh, stay here? I know you've got the club tonight, on a Friday, but -"

"No worries. Megan can handle it. Roy can go get me some clothes," she volunteered him with a sweet smile.

"Roy can go get everybody some clothes," Oliver instructed, grateful that the boy just agreed without putting up a fight. "And don't forget Felicity's tablet."

He nodded seriously before disappearing down the hall.

"Dig, you and Lyla want to go see if you can figure out who knows what about this?"

"Sure thing, boss." And they too were gone.

Before Oliver could say something vaguely reassuring to his sister, Detective Lance reappeared.

"I've got Starling PD down there trying to disperse the crowd and trying to make sure no more information is leaked. You got your guys working on it too?"

"Yeah, Dig is going to see what he can find out. Thea, maybe you should call mom? Let her know not to worry."

She nodded and hurried off down the hall to make the call in private. Oliver took that time to sink into the closest seat, burying his head in his hands.

"It had to happen sometime, kid."

"Of all the days, though…"

"Yeah, of all the days."

Detective Lance rested a hand on Oliver's shoulder, offering him all the strength he could.

* * *

**A/N2: Not the easy resolution that I'm sure some had hoped for, but it raaaaarely is when you get an infection like this. Like I mentioned last chapter, other things will take a bit longer to be resolved with Felicity's health taking priority - Laurel, for instance, and now we've got some picture drama and Oliver is STRUGGLING. Poor guy. If it seemed like he was handling everything really well before, well - everyone just pull up a chair and get ready to see what is to come!**


	23. If It's Not Okay, It's Not The End

**A/N: Yo, hugs for everyone in this chapter. And also you guys. Not sure what happened but alerts and follows totally exploded with the last chapter. Thank you all! Means a lot. Hope you like this one too. **

* * *

"She wants to talk to you." Thea held the phone out for Oliver, a look of regret splashed on her face. He knew their mother hadn't given her much of a choice.

"Hi, mom." He took the phone and began to walk down the hall, eager to find a private place to speak.

"Oliver, how are you? Are you okay?"

He got irrationally angry at that. "_I'm_ fine. Felicity isn't."

"What happened?"

"We don't - we don't know. She has some sort of infection. They're treating her in ICU."

"I know you won't like this, but you really should consider doing a press conference."

He barked out a harsh laugh. She had been right: he didn't like that all.

"I am not giving a press conference on Felicity."

"Sweetheart, like it or not, you are going to have to address this. If not you, then me. I've been receiving calls all morning regarding this and there is only so much I can say."

"Then don't say anything! This has nothing to do with anyone except us. Her family."

Moira Queen sighed, unsure of how to get through to her son. "I will try to stave off questions as long as I can. In the meantime, I will call Janet and see if she can draft a few things. _Nothing_ too personal," she rushed to assure him, "but something brief and tasteful, perhaps saying that she is a family friend that is being treated at Starling General. No details."

"Fine. Do whatever you have to do. But under no circumstances is her diagnosis to be leaked, do you understand me?"

"Yes, dear. Please keep me updated on her condition."

He hung up after that and if it wasn't for the fact that it was _Thea's_ phone, he would've thrown that against the wall too.

He tossed the phone back to her as he reentered the waiting area, his mind racing.

"Everything okay?" Lance asked.

"Yeah. Just perfect. My mother seems to think that this is the good time for a press conference and I can't even figure out how Felicity's picture got out to the media. If that qualifies as 'okay,' then sure. We are there."

"Press conference?"

"There are questions," Oliver sighed. "Questions that she can't answer and questions that I don't _want_ to answer. Janet is going to draft up some sort of statement, but who knows how long that will hold them off."

"Janet? Who is Janet?"

"Queen PR," Thea piped up. At Lance's disbelieving look, "what, does your family not have one of those?"

"Might not be a bad idea," Lance told him softly. Oliver could barely believe what he was hearing. He had assumed that out of everyone, Lance would be on his side, the side of protecting Felicity from all of this. "They're going to find out sooner or later, kid."

"Yeah, well, I'd rather it be later."

"We might not get that choice. Someone is going to recognize her and call it in, and it'll look worse if it seems like you're trying to hide it."

"I will not let her be dragged through the media circus of Starling City," Oliver growled.

"Well, you might not have a choice! She knew what she was getting into when she let you move in with her. She knew that this might happen."

"I never should've stayed with her…"

"And where would we be then? You think she could've called 911 herself last night? As much as I don't like it, you did the right thing by moving in with her. And I know she will say the same damn thing when she wakes up."

Oliver ran his hands over his face, feeling every hour of sleep that he didn't get. This was such a mess. How had it gotten to be such a mess? It seemed like a month ago that Felicity and he went to see Walter at QC. He was so proud of her for saying the words, for taking that first step. He couldn't believe that it was just yesterday.

Knowing that he didn't have the luxury of wallowing, not then, not now, he stood up.

"Tell Roy to bring me a sports coat," he told Thea, reaching for his own phone. Looked like he was going to have to do that press conference after all.

* * *

"...We appreciate your privacy during this very trying time. Thank you." Oliver gave a quick wave to the gathered reporters in front of Starling General before excusing himself and reentering the hospital.

"Not bad," Lance commented as Oliver slung off the coat that suddenly felt too tight, too constricting.

"Shouldn't have had to do that in the first place."

"Well, we all have to do things we don't want to do sometimes. Shit happens." Oliver cocked an eyebrow. "What? You made a choice and it's over. Now we move on."

He shook his head at the man's casual attitude towards all of this. Never in a million years would he have thought that Detective Lance would be the voice of reason in his life.

The press conference was probably the shortest Oliver had ever conducted, which said a lot given his previous penchant for making brief cameo appearances in his family's affairs. He had reluctantly given Felicity's first name to the press, making it clear that she was a family friend and a valued QC employee who was currently suffering from an infection. No mention or allusion to cancer was made and he hadn't bothered to hide his indignation at having to make a statement in the first place.

He was walking to Felicity's room, content to just stare at her some more, as creepy as he knew she would find that had she been awake, when he was stopped by a doctor he hadn't seen before.

"Mr. Queen, I'm Dr. Ling, the Head of Oncology here at Starling General."

"Dr. Ling, yes, we spoke on the phone, I remember. Is Felicity okay? What's happening?"

It was early evening, around 4 p.m., and while he had been badgering the doctors for updates every half hour or so throughout the day, he hadn't gotten much more than "she's stable" out of them.

"Well, the good news is that her white blood cell count is up. Through the roof, really."

"What does that mean?" Lance interrupted.

"It means her body is fighting this thing like hell. It also means that if someone wants to sit with her, they can. We're no longer worried about her contracting a new infection on top of this, not with her counts up and the antibiotics pumping through her. In a couple of hours we are going to start weaning her off the sedatives, see how she responds to that, as well as work on getting her extubated and breathing on her own."

"That's good," Oliver sighed, feeling the first tendrils of hope creep through his chest. "That's good, right?"

"It is very good, Mr. Queen, but she's not out of the woods yet."

"What do you mean?"

"Her fever is still very high, and I'm concerned with the temperature as well as the duration. We are going to give her a few more hours to see if her body can't regulate this on its own."

"And then what?" Lance asked when it seemed as if Oliver's voice had stopped working.

"And then we take it from there. We explore other options to bring it down. For now, though, if someone wants to sit with her, that's fine. We ask no more than one person at a time."

"Go," Oliver nudged Lance towards her door. "I've got to - just go. Go!"

He was going to protest, insist that kid go see her first, but decided against it after seeing the look in Oliver's eyes.

* * *

Hours later and Oliver, being the last to visit with her and the only one to stay for so long, had been unceremoniously kicked out of Felicity's room. The doctors were about to begin the process of removing her breathing tube and focus on getting her breathing on her own and couldn't have the extra body in the room getting in the way.

"She looks so much better without the tube," Dig commented as he sidled up next to Oliver who was watching through the window.

"Yeah."

"She's gonna get through this, Oliver."

"Yeah."

"Are you hungry? There's still food leftover."

"Ye- No, I'm-I'm fine." He finally looked at Dig, sharing a weak smile. He knew his friend was trying to hold it together as best he could as well. "Any news?"

"I figured out that whoever sold those pictures to KBTV got one hell of a pay day."

"What do you mean?" His words instantly commanded Oliver's attention.

"I saw that KBTV took out $50,000 this morning, right before the pictures started circulating. There's nothing rivaling that in any of the previous month's books. That's a lump sum payout."

"Who did they transfer it to?"

"That's the thing - I can't tell. It looks like it was a cash withdrawal. I can't - there's no way for me to trace that kind of money."

"What do you mean, there's no way?" He refused to believe that this was the end of the trail. "We've done more with less!"

"_Felicity_ has done more with less. She has algorithms and sifting methods that would go through all the data we need, but I can't make any sense of it. Right now, it's just too much. Without a way to track the money manually and without having any idea of where to start looking, it wouldn't be worth it for me to start digging around in there."

"Tell me that there is someone that I can ask very nicely who can tell me who sold them the pictures."

"Roy already went."

"_What?_"

"He went to the senior editor who accepted the photos. No good. Everything was done electronically, the money left in the corner of an alley in the Glades with no working street cams within blocks of it. He just got back a little bit ago. We tried, man."

"Then let me try again," Oliver commanded, making to brush by Dig. He was stopped by a huge hand on his shoulder. He could remove it, yes, but not without burning some bridges in his and Dig's relationship. He decided to wait and hear the man out.

"I said it's no good. Roy got everything. He got the e-mails and he got the security footage from the bank and the news station. He put the fear of God in the man for Christ's sake, Oliver. He's not doing much better than you. He needs you here. We need you here. _She_ needs you here."

He looked at the clock in the hall. It was late. Almost 1 a.m., almost a full day after finding Felicity in bed with a fever and fighting her about the hospital. Almost 24 hours since he last heard her voice.

His eyes wandered down the hall to the open waiting room. There were two other couples that were waiting there now as well, but the room was dominated by Felicity's family. Lyla was cleaning up paper plates that once held greasy slices of pizza, bending down to shake a few soda cans to see if they were empty. Thea was stretched out on the couch, her head in Roy's lap as he idly played with her fingers, sharing occasional words with her. Lance was reclined in a chair uncomfortably, eyes closed, seemingly asleep. Jackets and shoes littered the small room, Dig's laptop still open on the table in the center of their little group. He had been right. This was where he needed to be.

A ding from the elevator at the end of the hall got his attention. Seeing the frame of a wheelchair and not spotting a reporter or any type of photographer, Oliver turned away and began to make his way back towards the waiting room.

"Nah man, I just uh- I just got lost! Yeah, and see, I was on my way back, but you know, this elevator is a little bit wonky…"

The words seemed strange to Oliver, a man who prided himself on being able to tell a lie and he froze in his path, turning abruptly and making his way towards the elevator. If some reporter had the _nerve_ to try and get to Felicity by pretending to be a patient, he would make sure they never worked in Starling City ever again. They'd be lucky if they could even operate a camera again after he got through with them.

His steps faltered a little as he got closer. The security on duty was a man that went by Ace, and he was doing an impressive job dressing down the kid in front of him, asking all the right questions to throw him off balance.

"Wait, Ace," Oliver stopped the impromptu interrogation with a hand on his arm. "I think...you're Trey, right?"

The young, bald black boy was clad in a pair of loose pajama pants and a hospital-issued johnny, a thin blanket resting over his lap. He looked terrified of the position he was currently in, his eyes darting around the hall, looking for a quick escape. Oliver almost smiled.

"Who are you?" Now _that_ he did smile at.

"I'm Oliver Queen. But you knew that."

"You knew who I was," he countered defiantly. "You uh, you got this whole floor on lock?"

"I do."

"I just uh, I saw on the news earlier. And I wanted to see if she was okay."

"She hasn't woken up yet." Logic told him that he might need to run down this possible lead, but he didn't think Trey was the one who sold the pictures of Felicity. He certainly didn't look like a criminal mastermind; he looked scared and a little confused.

"_Damn_," the kid muttered softly before studying Oliver. "You the roommate?"

"Roommate?"

"Yeah, Homegirl talked about some roommate she had that was always taking care of her. That you?"

"Homegirl?" He didn't care if he was an echo at that point, he was just intrigued by the kid in front of him.

"Yeah well, Felicity is kind of a mouthful," he said self-consciously, flushing under his dark skin. Oliver didn't know what to say to that - her name was one of his favorite things. To say, to hear, to think about, it was all the same to him. He had never considered it a 'mouthful' before. "So, you him?"

"I guess I am," he admitted. He had also never really considered himself a 'roommate' before, but for explaining to a third party that she didn't want to get involved, it made sense. "Are you supposed to be wandering the halls at this hour?"

"I just slipped out for a second! No one noticed. Wanted to give her this." He tossed Oliver an old flip phone which he caught easily. "Just wanted to show her that I did it."

"You...brought her a piece of outdated technology?"

"Nah man, she taught me how to fix it. That thing was in three pieces before I got to it. Not to mention, I retooled it. Put in a tiny receiver in the back to make it a microphone. Made it into a bug, you know, like James Bond uses. Just call me Q, baby."

"I will not be doing that." Oliver slipped the phone into his pocket, making a mental note to not leave it lying around. Ever. A quick glance behind him showed Dr. Ling waiting outside Felicity's room and he knew he had to get to her. "I've got to go. Get back to bed."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going." Trey wheeled himself expertly back into the elevator, glaring at Ace as he made sure to hit the button for his floor for him.

"I'll make sure she gets this," Oliver called to him, receiving a nod in thanks and a small smile before turning his attention to the doctor.

"Mr. Queen," Dr. Ling greeted. "We are still concerned with her fever at this point. If it stays this high, she's at a heightened risk for seizures or even hydrocephalus. Swelling of the brain," she explained at his look. "It could lead to permanent brain damage."

He swallowed hard.

"What now?"

"Now, we try everything we can to bring her fever down."

"We're going to need you to sign a few forms before we begin, but we'll start with the most tried and true methods first. Ice blankets and ice packs are some of the most effective ways to break fevers."

"Sure. Okay, yeah."

He signed the forms on autopilot, barely reading the words in front of him, even though he knew Felicity would hate that. He just couldn't bring himself to at that point; they were nothing but warnings and releases regarding what could possibly go wrong with what they were doing. He read a few words like 'hypothermia' and 'tachycardia' and he just skipped straight to the bottom, signing his name as quickly as possible. Just as fast, a team of doctors had moved into her room, busying themselves with setting things up around her. As much as he wanted to watch, to make sure she was okay, they quickly drew the curtains. He knew it was for her own privacy, and that she would hate being on display as she was, but not being able to see her was a torture in its own right. He blew out a long breath of air before making his way to the waiting room.

"Hide this, but don't get rid of it." Oliver passed Dig the basic flip phone from Trey.

"What is it?"

He rolled his eyes. "Poor man's listening device. Felicity is teaching the kids here how to make amateur spy equipment apparently."

"Maybe we should get him to come work for us," Dig joked as he wrapped the device in a sweater and shoved it to the bottom of the bag at his feet.

He knew there was nothing he could do except wait, so Oliver slumped into the chair next to Dig.

"Have you gotten any sleep all day?" He didn't need to respond to Dig's question; they both knew the answer. "Try and get some rest. I'll make sure they wake you if anything happens."

He wanted to argue, to say that he was fine, like he always did, but the truth was that he was exhausted. His body protested the open area, not being able to truly settle down with the beeps and footsteps and general hum of the hospital, but he logically knew that it was probably the safest place in Starling to sleep between the security, Dig, Roy, and even Detective Lance.

He felt his eyelids grow heavy and he sent a quick plea to the heavens to wake up and for this all have been a bad dream.

* * *

The next morning he found himself once again hovering over Felicity's prone body in her room. She wasn't as viciously hot as she had been the day before and the doctors assured him that between the ice packs and the antibiotics kicking in, her fever was out of the danger zone. Once she woke up and was monitored for a bit, they could move her upstairs, to her private room.

He craved the sight of the huge window overlooking Starling and what it represented. He needed that.

A soft _click_ behind him told him that he was not alone in the room. He was surprised to see Thea behind him, nervously shifting her weight between her feet. He knew she hated hospitals and that this had to have been hard on her. It was hard on everyone.

"Hi," she greeted softly.

"Hey Speedy," he sighed.

"I heard...do you think she's gonna wake up soon?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I do. You know...things have died down now. You can probably get out of here without a problem. You don't have to stay."

"Oh. But I...I-I-I can, right? Like, I don't _need_ to leave?"

"Of course you can stay, Thea. You can stay as long as you want." He watched his sister hover around the foot of the bed. He knew she had something to say, he just had to wait her out.

"Do you remember when I was little, and dad used to read us stories before my bedtime?"

He smiled a little at the memory. He was a bit older than Thea and didn't always stick around for storytime when she was little, but he sometimes would, craving a bit more of his father's attention.

"You used to absolutely freak out anytime it got too scary," he remembered.

"I _hated_ it when I thought it wouldn't have a happily ever after." She paused, lost in memory. "Do you remember what dad used to say to me though? Anytime I cried too much or got really scared, he'd say, 'in the end, everything will be okay. And...'"

"...'and if it's not okay, then it's not the end,'" Oliver finished. "I remember."

"She's going to wake up and everything is going to be okay. Because this isn't the end. It can't be. I'm not saying...I don't want to say goodbye."

"You won't have to. When did you get to be so smart?"

"I know, right?" She shared a special smile with her older brother. "Roy and I are going to go get some food, but we'll be back. Lyla had to go into the office or something, so it's just Dig and Detective Lance hanging out out there. Do you need anything?"

He couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off of Felicity. "I'm good. Thanks, though."

She skipped over and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

"Love you, Ollie."

"Love you too."

* * *

**A/N2: Coming up next: don't you all want to know what Oliver said to Felicity when he sat with her in the room? And Detective Lance? And anyone else that might have come in with her? The next chapter of For Darker Days is a bit of a departure from the norm - there is clips from everyone's time with her, giving you a little insight into everyone's feelings. It is also the first chapter that I cried while writing, so uh, get ready for that.**


	24. Everything To Lose

**A/N: Sorry, meant to get this out this morning but then - well, then I went to Wilmington. Sorry. Thank you all for the AMAZING response to the last chapter of For Darker Days! Ahhhh! So many wonderful things that I need to reply to - which I will - but wanted to get this out ASAP.**

**Hope you all like this - and don't kill me at the end. PATIENCE, VIRTUES, GOOD THINGS, WAITING, ETC ETC**

* * *

It was nearing lunchtime and Oliver and Lance were camped out by Felicity's bed, completely ignoring the hospital's one-visitor-at-a-time rule. Dig was in the waiting room with Thea and Roy, still pouring over the hospital's surveillance which had taken way too long to get a hold of, and even longer to get it in some semblance of order. He needed to give his friend a raise.

Lost in thought of everything that his friends were doing for him, Oliver almost didn't hear Lance repeating his name.

"Queen...hey, kid, Queen - would you look?"

"Hmm?"

"I think she's waking up."

_That_ got Oliver's attention. "What? Why?"

"Look, just look - watch."

Sure enough, Felicity's hand closest to him was moving ever so slightly. Another look at her face and he could see her struggling to open her eyes. She let out a tiny gasp of air when she felt her body protest any type of movement, but finally, finally, finally, she managed to get her eyes open.

"Hey."

It was all Oliver could manage, all the words he could get out. A part of him wanted to say so much more, to say how happy he was to see her open her eyes, to say how grateful he was that she was _there_ and alive and conscious, but all he got out was that one word. Hey.

"Nice to see those eyes again," Lance told her, a smile pasted on his face, barely masking his concern.

She took it all in, the faces in front of her, the creases of worry, the steady beat of her heart monitor, the passage of people outside the window of a room she had never been in before. Her heart sunk the more she looked at the two men in front of her. Oh, no.

Her throat was scratchy and raw, which she would later learn was from the breathing tube, but she licked her lips a few times before she opened her mouth, determined to ask the question on the tip of her tongue.

"Oh, god...who died?"

A strangled laugh escaped Oliver's throat as the irony of her words hit him. Lance allowed himself a few moments of weakness and didn't immediately brush the two tears that had escaped his eyes, instead just lowering his head and pressing a chaste kiss to her hand that rested still on the bed.

"Felicity…" Oliver breathed her name like it was a prayer, like it was the only song he ever wanted to sing again.

"What happened?" Her voice was still strained and he knew that she was still under the effects of a lot of sedation. Not knowing if she was still inquiring as to the fate of everyone on their team or if she was actually curious about her current predicament, he just shook his head.

"Everyone is fine. You're fine. Everything is going to be okay."

Dr. Ling interrupted them shortly after, checking vitals and adjusting her medicine. Felicity wasn't awake for long, but it was all Oliver needed. It was amazing how just seeing her eyes for a brief moment took away the brick that had been sitting on his chest for the last two days. He could breathe.

She wasn't in the clear though, Dr. Ling was quick to remind him. She was going to have a hard road of a recovery ahead of her, including more of the painful physical therapy sessions with Steve and a lot more medications to keep her immune system up, but she was okay for now.

She was okay.

* * *

He saw her eyes again the next afternoon, and for much longer.

"Don't be sad," she mumbled to Oliver, who hadn't even noticed that she was awake. "S'okay."

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Not great."

He wanted to laugh but his body wouldn't cooperate. "I believe that. Everyone is going to be so happy to see you. They said you might be able to move upstairs tonight."

"Mmm good. I hate this window. I miss my other window. Don't like people just staring at me. 'Cept for you. Not that I don't stare at you sometimes. I do. You should get a salmon ladder in the room upstairs. Think they'll allow that?"

It was a sad rant by Felicity standards, but her run-on sentences just drove the point home all the more strongly to Oliver.

"God, I missed you."

He didn't think she really understood the severity of the infection she had, or how close they had all come to losing her, but he knew that it would eventually hit her. He just hoped he was around when that happened to deal with any fallout that should occur.

Felicity, for her part, just knew that she felt awful. Her body ached in ways she hadn't realized it could, her head pounded with every inhale, and she couldn't help the wince that escaped every time she swallowed. Not to mention the look in Oliver's eyes that she couldn't get to go away. That hurt a lot too.

"I'm right here," she told him. It wasn't everything she wanted to say and it barely chased the shadows out of his eyes, but it did draw a small smile from him.

"You are." As much as he wanted to bask in that simple fact, he knew it wasn't fair for him to monopolize her time like this. She had slept all the sedatives off that had been in her system, but she was still recovering and if she was awake, he needed to let others see her. He stood, adjusting his coat. "I'll go let the - oh," he pulled out the item that was in his pocket. "From Trey."

It was an old transistor radio that he had fixed in the last 24 hours, and he had made another appearance in the ICU last night to give it to Oliver for Felicity.

"He said the radio was the only thing his mom was willing to give him from his house, but after you gave him that whole _bag_ full of stuff, he wanted to return the favor." Felicity smiled as he put it on the table next to her, flicking it on to static and then off again. "It works, too."

"He's a good kid." Her slight ramble earlier had left her breathless and she was mincing her words to make up for that.

Oliver was suddenly reminded of how Trey knew she was in the hospital in the first place and he knew he had to come clean with Felicity.

"Felicity...I had to- when you were sick, and I brought you to the ER…" How did he tell her that her safely guarded privacy had all gone up in flames the same time her immune system did?

It turns out, he didn't.

"Lance told me this morning."

"He did? He told you...everything?"

"Pictures and press conference. Said you felt bad."

"I...I do, Felicity. I tried so hard to shield you from this and I just...made it so much worse." A part of him couldn't believe that Lance had took the bullet and been the one to tell Felicity about all of the media craziness that had been happening, but another part of him definitely could. The man had shown so many different sides of himself in the past two days that he would believe anything at that point.

"You saved me." He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of that. She was the one who was doing all the saving. "Don't feel bad."

"No one knows that you have cancer," he rushed to tell her. "That was never mentioned. It was all very low key and it has pretty much blown over by now. Dig's trying to find whoever leaked the picture to the press, but there's not much to go by. Camera angles in this hallway are all wrong for what we need."

"We'll find them."

"Yeah. We will."

He leaned over and took her hand in his, the same gesture he had been so used to before. He was always holding her hand while she was undergoing chemotherapy or feeling scared about something. It felt different to him now, having almost lost her. It all just felt different.

* * *

As the days went by, Felicity was starting to feel a little more human. Oliver was checking her vitals more often than her nurses and Lance had taken a sort of mini-vacation from the precinct, having finally explained his situation to the captain, but still - she was back in her own private room, she could talk in complete sentences, and she was even sitting up and doing some light exercises with Steve. Those exercises made her want to murder the physical therapist, but still, it was nice to have some sense of normality, which was definitely missing in the ICU.

Unfortunately, not everyone was ready for things to get back to normal.

It was five days after she had been moved back to her room and she was sitting in a wheelchair at the table in her room playing chess with Dig while Roy watched and commented. She hadn't positioned herself very well though, and she was a bit too far from the table to comfortably maneuver all of her pieces.

Oliver walked in as she was stretching to move her pawn and just happened to catch her as she grabbed her side. Some of her bones ached more than others, a side effect of some of the medication she had to have in order to increase her white blood cell count, and her ribs were always catching her off guard.

"The hell are you doing?"

"Wha?" She fell back into the wheelchair, startled by Oliver's harsh tone.

"What are you even doing up and out of bed?"

"Steve said it was good for me to start getting around...I just got into my chair," she told him, baffled by his reaction.

"And you _let _her?" He directed his ire towards Dig and Roy.

"Hello, still right here!"

"She didn't go far," Dig assured him. "And we were both right here."

"Get back in bed," he told her.

Oh, _hell_ no.

"Since when do you think you can tell me what to do? And when has me being out of bed become such a huge deal? I just stretched too far before is all-"

"Just do it, Felicity."

"Not until you tell me what the hell is going on with you! Since when do you even care?"

In retrospect, she should've chosen her words more carefully. She hadn't meant for one second to question Oliver's feelings for taking care of her and it had just come out - she had wanted to ask him since when did he care that she was moving around, but she was mad and he was being bossy and it was all just a little too much. For his part, Oliver couldn't even pause the runaway train that was his mind at that moment, only hearing her words and taking them at face value and feeling so completely...enraged.

"Since when do I-" He took a deep breath, trying futilely to calm his instinctive reaction and lower his voice, but he couldn't. "Since when do I _care?_ Since when do I _care about you?_ You almost _died_, Felicity!" He all but roared at her. Dig's eyes darted to the door, positive that they were about to get interrupted by a nurse, but no one came.

"I didn't-"

"You almost _died_, so I'm sorry if I seem a little over-protective. You were in a medically induced _coma_, and they couldn't get your damn temperature down, do you understand that? Do you understand that I almost lost you? That I had to watch them put tubes down your throat and ice packs around your body, and that I had to sign off on all these different treatments that could have killed you, or worse, left you somehow...damaged? That I had to make the decision whether or not to call your mother, knowing that there was a chance if I didn't, that I would have to call her and tell her that her daughter was _dead_? Do you understand that I'm spending hours on the phone, trying to convince Walter that he didn't give you the germs that caused your infection because the man feels so damn guilty that he could have, and I'm trying to take care of my little sister who thought she was going to have to say **goodbye** to you? And you have the nerve to ask me _since when do I care_?"

The silence was deafening.

Suddenly, the door flew open and a nurse was standing in the frame, taking in the scene in front of her and getting ready to chastise Oliver. Before she could say anything, he whirled around, coming back the way he had just came.

"I was just leaving," he bit out. "Get her into bed."

* * *

She didn't have to even be asked to return to her bed. She just slowly pushed her chair the few feet towards her bed and painstakingly eased her way up onto the mattress without the assistance of anyone. _Steve would be proud_, she thought fleetingly as she relaxed into the pillows before she remembered the last few minutes.

She answered the nurse's routine questions, grateful that she didn't mention the shouting that she _had_ to have heard from the station down the hall. Finally, she was alone with Dig and Roy.

And promptly burst into tears.

Around her sobs, she managed to apologize to Dig and Roy and to try to convince them that she had been misunderstood, but it didn't serve to make her feel any better.

"He was just worried about you, Felicity. We all were." Dig rubbed her back as she continued to cry but it was nothing like the way Oliver did it and remembering that brought more tears.

"Yeah, it was...it was really scary," Roy agreed. "He knows you didn't mean it though. Don't worry."

"But _he_ meant it! He's doing so much for me and I...and I…"

"He's been carrying that around for a while. Hasn't had a chance to get out of here in a while, and he needs a chance to process everything. Just give him time."

"Yeah, I haven't seen him that mad since...since he first found out you had cancer. Guess he stormed off then, too." Roy shrugged apologetically at Dig's glare. How was he supposed to know that would set off more crying?

It took a bit of time but she finally calmed down. Roy took this as a good sign to leave and gave her a light hug before backing out of the room. That was a lot more emotional than he had anticipated. He had been promised a boring afternoon of chess. Not only that, but he felt like she needed some intimate knowledge of Oliver's psyche and he was not an expert in all things Oliver. That was going to have to fall on John's shoulders.

Felicity looked at Dig sitting in what she had dubbed as 'Oliver's chair,' and decided to ask the question that she was trying not to think about lately.

"Was it really that bad?"

"Yeah." He knew exactly what she was talking about and didn't try to make her feel better. Someone needed to explain to her what had happened.

"I don't really remember much," she admitted. "I remember Oliver telling me we had to go to the hospital, but then that's it."

"It was _bad_. He was a mess at the hospital before we knew anything and then once we did...the doctors weren't very hopeful in the beginning. Your fever was too high and that whole septic shock thing had taken hold really quickly."

"And then the news…" She encouraged Dig to continue.

"And then the news and the picture and the press conference - it was like, one hit after another. The man was supposed to give a press conference on how you were just a casual acquaintance all while he didn't know if you were going to survive the night. It had to have been hell, Felicity."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's not your fault. None of this is your fault and he knows that, he does. He'll come around. It was just a lot for one person to handle, you get that? He's doing the best that he can but - but the man is drowning. Just hope he realizes it before it's too late."

"What can I do?"

"You get in the damn bed when he asks you to." He smiled at her wide, unblinking eyes. "I'm kidding. You do what you always do. You fight this. You show him that it's not going to be that easy for you to give up."

Dig left a little while later at her insistence. She needed some time alone to think things through, and she needed to figure out what she was going to do with Oliver.

She had heard his words - and Dig's subsequent ones - loud and clear. She had the easy role in all of this, especially last weekend. She didn't have any of the painful memories that he did, none of the responsibilities. It was easy for Dig to tell her to keep fighting, but it was even easier for her to do so in the case of the last weekend. She didn't remember _anything_; it was all up to her body to do the hard work.

She hated that she had put Oliver in such a hard position. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she got stuck with this stupid disease and had to not only watch it wreak havoc on her own body, but to watch it destroy the people around her. She hadn't really allowed herself to wallow in self pity, but she figured that it was okay just this once. She cursed the disease, she cursed her body, she cursed Oliver, she cursed just about anything she could think of.

Why _her_? Why did she have to get screwed over with this sucky disease? She was a good person, minus some of her earlier hacking exploits. She helped save Starling City. She gave money to charity. She braked for animals. So why in the world had she been the one to get this stupid fucking cancer?

She slammed her arms down on the bed in frustration, even giving a little scream. This wasn't how her life was supposed to turn out! And now Oliver was mad at her, rightfully so, even she had to admit, and her life was just in a complete tailspin.

Some of the things Oliver had said to her - or, well, yelled at her, really - were things that Felicity had never even considered. Her heart hurt for Walter. The doctors told her that the infection probably had taken hold 18-24 hours prior to admittance, and if she was being honest, she hadn't felt great the night before but had blamed it all on nerves of going to QC. She knew that the man was not responsible for her hospital stay, but she hadn't had to be the one to convince him of that.

Thea was another story entirely. She had seen her a few times since the last weekend and had noticed that she was a little less sunny, a little less accepting of the cancer, having seen its effects firsthand. She took for granted the fact that Oliver was the one that was reassuring her every night, not her.

And then there were the other things Oliver had said. Things about signing forms for medications and not calling her mother. Things that she had never once considered in her selfishness to name Oliver as her health care proxy. To be fair, she had made that decision only after working with him on some of the more dangerous Arrow-related assignments, but still. He took care of her day and night and she repaid him by giving him insane amounts of pressure. It wasn't the first time he held her life in his hands, but it was the first time he didn't know all the variables. With an Arrow case, he was usually directly responsible for getting her out of situations safely. With this, he had to just trust he was making the right decision and leave the work to a complete stranger, hoping that he hadn't just damned her to death.

She felt like a horrible person.

And worse, she didn't know what to do to fix it. She worked with absolutes in her life. She had problems and she fixed them. Her computer had problems and she fixed those. Starling City had problems, and she - well, she helped to fix those. She was not used to feeling so completely at a loss with what to do.

Everything she thought about doing had a ridiculous downside. She contemplated removing Oliver as her health care proxy, but really, what good would that do? He might not feel pressured to make the right choices when she couldn't, but she knew that he would feel worse at the thought that she didn't trust him with that. Not to mention the fact that there wasn't anyone else she could see giving that responsibility to. Dig, maybe, but that would still leave Oliver feeling slighted. She thought about pushing him away, of giving him an out, some time alone and away from her, but she knew that wasn't what either one of them needed or wanted. Having him living with her had saved her life, and she wasn't in a rush to lose that kind of support at that moment.

What else was there?

He did so much for her and she couldn't even make him see that.

Lost in thought, the hours ticked away. She barely picked at her dinner, ignoring the stern looks the night nurses gave her, disappointed with her lack of nutritional progress. She didn't want to turn on the television or a movie, feeling like she didn't deserve an escape from her mind. She may not have given herself cancer, but she had certainly created the mess that she was currently in. She needed to show Oliver that she appreciated him and everything he did, but how?

* * *

**A/N2: Sorry, not everything is happy in Olicity world. BUT a lot of those topics NEEDED to be broached and look at that - now they are! Y'all couldn't have thought Oliver was going to last much longer, right? Next chapter will be a For Darker Days companion piece again - let's see just what's going on in his mind! Love all of you a weird amount!**


	25. Tongues Are Made For Talking

**A/N: Heavy heart today, folks. Found out that my aunt was diagnosed with leukemia yesterday - CML, to be exact. Hasn't been staged yet, but there will obviously be a long, hard road ahead. CML isn't a cancer that I am very familiar with, but I do know that chemotherapy is rarely used, instead they prefer targeted drug therapies, which are usually oral. Doesn't make it any less hard, of course, but it does mean that my knowledge base to help out and offer support isn't what it could be. I try very hard to keep my own personal experiences with cancer out of the notes so as to not color the story one way or the other, but this just hit really close to home and what timing, right?**

**Sidenote - she was diagnosed by her allergist, who she went to see because she had a persistent cough, and he ran her blood tests. Like something out of a really shitty story, huh?**

**Anyway - back to the story. Wow, that was a bummer. I'm sorry. For all the lightness I try desperately to infuse in this story, this was a sobering reminder that cancer is real and unbiased. It'll affect whoever it wants to.**

* * *

It was three a.m. when a soft click of the door closing woke her up. The receding shadow outside of her door told her that it was just one of her many night shift nurses leaving after checking her vitals, which thankfully was a much less intrusive process now that she was on the mend. They just came in, noted what her monitors said on a chart, and left. She didn't even have an IV connected to her port now; her hydration levels were good and she no longer needed the strength of intravenous antibiotics, and just took a twice-daily horse pill that she gagged on religiously.

She was vaguely aware of someone else's presence in the room with her. She didn't have her contacts in or her glasses on, so the world was a little blurry, but she knew without a doubt that it was Oliver next to her. Back in his chair, reclined comfortably, his hand resting on her bed, just inches away from her's. So close yet so, so far.

She wasn't aware of when he had returned or what he was even doing there. She had assumed it would take him a bit longer to get over her blatant callousness and she knew that she could handle one night alone in the hospital.

She readjusted herself slightly, not surprised at all when his eyes opened instantly and he became fully aware of the world around him. His eyes locked with her's (how were his eyes so clear when the rest of the room was so fuzzy?) and for all of her mental preparation, she didn't know what to say.

The only lights in the room were from a small ceiling light by the door, enabling nurses to make their way across the room intact, and what little illumination the computers that monitored her said. There was always a dim glow from outside though, despite the hour. The light pollution from the hospital reflected off the nearby buildings and windows, so the sky always looked a hazy shade of gray before the sun fully rose and lit up the room in beautiful colors.

"Hi," she whispered in the dark.

"Hi."

They then spoke at the time.

"Felicity, I just-"

"Listen, Oliver-"

They let out small laughs at that, unwanted smiled stretching their lips.

"Oliver, I know we both just had like, hours to think about what we want to say to each other, but can I...can I go first?"

He nodded. She took a deep breath, trying to center her thoughts. Center her _life_.

"I didn't really understand why you got mad earlier. At least, not until Dig kind of explained to me what happened when I was out of it and I mean, I guess you explained it too...I just, I never _intentionally_ wanted to take you for granted. But I did, and I know that now. I have been so selfish lately."

"No, no, no, Felicity, no-"

"I thought you said I could go first?" She waited for him to relax back in his chair, but she could practically see the words on the tip of his tongue. "You might not see it as such, but I have. I've been really selfish. And you've been so good to me, and given up so much for me, that it hasn't been fair at all for you."

"That doesn't mean that you're selfish."

"I didn't ask you questions I didn't want the answers to. Knowing that you knew them, but not asking you to share - that's selfish."

"I've been selfish too," Oliver confessed. Her mind started to race. What the hell was he talking about?

"You've been nothing but _great_."

"You might not have asked those questions, but I didn't volunteer the answers because I'm selfish. I want so badly to protect you from this...from everything, that I didn't tell you things. Things that yeah, you might not have wanted to know, but you should. There is so much I can't do for you when you're in here that I thought...I felt like keeping that stuff from you was protecting you. And a part of me knew it wasn't, but I just needed so badly to feel like I was doing something to help, that I didn't care."

The laugh Felicity let out echoed in the quiet room.

"You're telling me that we both think we're selfish for not talking about things?"

Oliver smiled at that. "Yeah, I guess so."

She returned his smile and let the moment seep in before it fell off her face and she remembered the situation they had gotten themselves in.

"We need to talk about these things, Oliver. I never want to see you like that again."

"What, angry and yelling?" He was trying to keep the conversation light but she wasn't having it.

"No, like you're holding stuff back from me and it's killing you. You must've been so - I can't even imagine it. I don't know what it's like to be you and to have to make such hard decisions and feel like you need to take care of everyone. But I never want to see you like that again, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed. "I will try to be better about talking about things with you."

"And I will try to be better about asking about things with you."

His hand finally closed the distance between theirs and grasped her fingers tightly. It was what she hadn't known she had been waiting for, but she let her eyes close in bliss. It felt so good, so right, to have him right there, beside her, a tangible thing.

"We don't have to talk about those things now though, right?" She eventually asked. "Only because it is like, 3 a.m., and I'm kind of tired and I'm not sure if now is the best time -"

"We've got time, Felicity. Lots of it."

She tried to smile at him but knew it fell flat.

"You don't know that."

"Yes," his face grew serious. "I do."

* * *

True to both of their words, they talked the next day. About everything.

Some topics were less pleasant than others, but some just felt good to talk about. Felicity still wasn't on board with telling her mother, not just yet, but she agreed that if something were to happen, like another infection, then Oliver had every right to call her the second she was brought in. They talked about Thea and how they could help her with all these tricky feelings that come with watching someone you know almost die. It was good to just get a lot of things out in the open, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like they were on the same page. Oliver glossed over some things, but she was getting pretty good at sensing when he might be uncomfortable with a subject, and his feelings on when she was first brought in with a fever fell under that category.

They even called Walter together, and the relief that he must have felt at hearing her voice was practically palpable over the line. She was convinced that she was never going to forget the feeling of Oliver squeezing her hand and mouthing that he was proud of her as she reassured the older gentleman.

Something had shifted in her relationship with Oliver after their talk though, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. It was an easiness between the two of them. He definitely seemed lighter, less bogged down with the weight of keeping things from her, and despite having to think about things that she had actively been avoiding before, she still felt okay about it. Because she knew that he was right there with her.

She put her newfound happiness and energy into her physical therapy sessions with Steve and found herself back in fighting strength sooner than anticipated. Sooner than she had anticipated, she was being told that her third round of chemotherapy could begin the next day.

Fantastic.

She knew that some people welcomed chemotherapy. They might not look forward to the side effects of it, but they hated postponing it because the sooner it was over, the sooner they would be healthy. Felicity was not one of those people.

She dreaded chemotherapy with everything she had. She knew that it was a necessary evil, but she also knew that it brought out the absolute worst in her. It made her irritable and crabby, not to mention super nauseous, and getting sick in front of her friends and family only served to make her _more_ irritable and crabby. The cycle never ended.

* * *

"You know Trey told me he sleeps through his chemo?" She told Oliver as she watched nurses switch the bags of chemo on her second day.

"Why don't you try that?"

"Because I'd rather puke when I'm awake, obviously," she grumbled before giving him an apologetic look. She hated herself when she was like this. "I just can't sleep. Feel even more nauseous when I close my eyes. It's like a hangover that never ends."

"Sounds like my early twenties," he joked.

"With none of the benefits of casual sex."

He coughed and subtly tried to readjust himself while he sat next to her. Thinking of Felicity and sex - casual or not - was never going to be a thing he did in public.

"How's your tongue today?" Mary asked.

"There was a time in my life when that was a weird question."

"Tongue," she repeated.

"Hurts," Felicity muttered. The nausea was expected, as was the fatigue, but the mouth sores were one of the worst parts to her.

"Let me see," Mary requested, inspecting her tongue and mouth fully.

It was all just so humiliating to Felicity.

"We'll take out anything hard or crunchy from your diet for the next few days. That means no more Froot Loops, unfortunately." She visibly deflated at that. So many foods tasted weird to her lately, Froot Loops was one of the only things she had a taste for. "Oatmeal only for breakfast. It doesn't look like it's getting any worse, so we'll just monitor it. If your throat starts getting sore or if you think it's getting worse, let me know right away, okay?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Who you callin' ma'am?" Mary smiled at her before pointing a finger at Oliver. "Water, remember. Keep her watered."

"What am I, a plant?"

"Or you're like, one of those towels." Roy walked in, wiping his face of any food crumbs that might still be on it. He had learned his lesson. Thea accompanied him quietly, this being her first time visiting while she was undergoing actual chemo.

"The hell are you talking about?" Felicity asked without any actual heat in her voice.

"You know, like those little towels that are super tiny but explode real big when you put them in water?"

"_Ohhhh_."

"I have no idea what he is talking about," Oliver admitted.

"Me neither," Thea chimed in.

"What kind of toys did you give away in goodie bags when you had parties as a kid?" Felicity wondered.

"Diamond bracelets, mostly," Thea deadpanned.

"You know, we've been dating a really long time, and even I don't know if she's serious."

"Thank you guys for coming." Felicity smiled despite how crummy she felt.

"So this is all your...stuff?" Thea wandered around the head of the bed, looking at the various IV poles and drips she had set up.

Oliver and Felicity had talked about it before deciding that it might be for the best if Thea saw her when she was in the middle of chemo. The second day was usually the best one, with the first being misery and the third when she was most likely to get sick, so they figured that if she had to see _something_, it should be then. They thought it would help her see Felicity looking more...normal as she battled this disease. She had only known out-of-the-hospital Felicity and fighting-for-her-life Felicity, never I-feel-miserable-but-will-still-be-feisty-as-hell Felicity.

Thea's eyes widened as she saw the kidney dish on the nightstand next to Oliver.

"Are you gonna - I mean, will you be - are you-?"

To his credit, Roy paled slightly but didn't make a move to run out of the room at that notion.

"Probably not today," she told the girl who was still taking in all of the wires and tubes connected to her. "My body is getting a little more used to it, so it takes it a bit longer to realize it wants to yak it all up. Lucky me."

"This really sucks," Thea summed up. "What does it - I mean, can I ask? What it feels like?"

"Well it doesn't really feel like anything while I get it. There's one drug I get, vincristine, that kind of makes my veins ache when they inject it, but it's really hard to describe. It's a weird sensation but it doesn't last long. Other than that, right now I just feel really tired and like I have the spins if I try and close my eyes."

"Whoa."

A beat of silence descended, no one quite sure what to say.

"And her tongue hurts," Oliver supplied.

"Your tongue? And how would you know that, brother dearest?"

She flushed red and glared at Oliver quickly before explaining to Thea. "Mouth ulcers. Not bad, it just…"

"Yikes."

"My tongue may hurt too bad to stick out at you, but my fingers still work fine," Felicity muttered to Oliver before chucking him the bird. He just grinned at her, happy she was keeping her spirits up.

"I feel weird talking about Felicity's tongue, so let's just watch some movies," Roy suggested. "I have the entire Bourne trilogy plus the new one. I will remind you, Felicity, that much like Die Hard, you are not allowed to watch these movies unless I am here. Oliver does not understand the nuances of these films and he will not explain them to you like I will."

Roy set about moving the couch into their usual movie marathon position.

"He explains the movies to you, too?" Thea gave Felicity a sympathetic look.

"_Yes_! Why does he do that?"

"No idea, but I no longer ask to go to the movies on our dates. And if he really wants to watch one, I'll see it by myself before watching it with him."

"_You do_?" Roy looked up, absolutely stunned.

"Of course not, babe," she reassured him before turning to Felicity and nodding emphatically.

Felicity felt like death and knew she had to look like it too, sans wig and with her weight loss becoming slightly more prominent, her clavicle protruding further than usual and her cheeks appearing sunken. However, in that moment, as Thea and Roy curled up on the couch together and Oliver threaded his fingers with her's as he relaxed into his chair, she felt better about the entire chemotherapy process she had in a long time.

She closed her eyes, savoring it, before jerking them open again.

Right, extreme nausea. Not a great idea. Maybe later.

* * *

She had been right, of course, when she felt like the third day after starting chemo would be the worst, and she had gotten violently ill for the better part of that day before sleeping so hard for so many hours that both Oliver and Lance checked on her vitals multiple times just to reassure themselves.

A few days later and she was finally feeling normal, or what she had quickly determined was her new normal. It was a lot of being exhausted and sometimes bouts of nausea out of nowhere, but for the most part it was okay. It was being alive.

"Are you going to tell me what's on your mind?"

She had been watching Detective Lance for the better part of ten minutes open and close his mouth so many times that it was as if he was doing a fish impersonation. Oliver was at QC with Dig and Lance was hanging out for lunch which was still on the mushy side for Felicity and her tongue, and on the unhealthy side for Lance and his heart.

She had never known the man to be hesitant with what he said, instead usually choosing to say it regardless of how it came out, so she knew it had to be something that he was struggling with. She couldn't take the guppy look anymore though, so she finally called him out on it.

"Wha?"

"Detective, you clearly have something you want to say to me. If it's that bad, I'm pretty sure you could outrun me, if it helps." She scrutinized him for a second. "Or not. You have been eating a lot of fast food lately."

"It doesn't help, but thanks kid. Good to know that smart mouth of yours hasn't gone anywhere."

"It's a gift. So, are you going to tell me or what?"

"I don't know if it's a good idea."

"...To talk to me? Because I know that sometimes I can get myself into some orally weird situations. Not like, _orally_ \- I mean, you know - not like - I don't know if there's a better way to put that, but if there is I would really like to think of it in three, two, one…"

"Laurel wants to see you."

"Who wants to what now?"

She hadn't thought much of Laurel since their initial altercation, with so much having happened since then, but it made sense that she would have seen Oliver's press conference and her pictures that were all over the news.

"I told you, I'm not sure it's such a great idea."

"Does she uh, does she know? I mean, did you tell her? It's okay if you did, you know, I'm just wondering-"

"No, of course not. In fact…" He ran his hands over his face and got up abruptly from his chair and started pacing at the foot of her bed. "I haven't really talked to her in the last few weeks."

Now _that_ shocked Felicity. Not that he had kept her secret, because the man was nothing if not confidential, but the fact that he hadn't talked to his only biological daughter in town was something else entirely. She knew that they were close, or had been until she had gotten in the way. Was she the problem now, too?

"Detective…" She tried to get his attention, but he just continued to wear a groove in the floor. "Quentin." He looked up at that, his face speaking more words than he ever could. He looked like he was about to get chastised. "Have you talked to her since we saw her at the coffee shop?"

He grimaced. "Not really."

"Not really? Is that a no?"

"She's tried to...a few times...but I didn't - I didn't know what to say. And I'm still pissed."

"Then how do you know she wants to see me?"

"She left me a message. Or two. Or three, okay. And I think she's talked to Queen, too, trying to find a way to see you. He might not want to bring it up to you, but I figured I might as well."

She had to force herself to put the idea of Oliver keeping things like this from her to the corner of her mind, especially when she thought that they were in such a great place recently, with communication abounding.

"What do you think I should do?" She finally asked.

"I told you, I'm not so sure it's-"

"A good idea, yeah, I heard you, but still. She's your _daughter_."

"I thought we went over this, huh?" Lance walked back to her side in bed. "You are just as important to me. And if you don't want to talk to her, don't talk to her. Don't think you have to just because of me, okay?"

She took a deep breath.

"I know I don't _have_ to, but I want to. And yeah," she gave him a small smile. "That is because of you."

"You are such a good kid," he told her fondly.

"Will you talk to her if I talk to her?"

He looked to honestly be weighing that decision in his head.

"Maybe. Probably. If she apologizes. To both of us. I know you think that this might just be about you, but she still needs to apologize for speaking to me that way. Cancer or no cancer, she had no right to suggest that I was dating the same person Oliver Queen was."

"Ah, so that's what this is really about," she teased. "You can't stand the idea of having the same taste in women as Oliver."

"I think we both know that I approve of his taste in women as of late."

She felt her face heat up. She might not agree completely, but she knew exactly where Detective Lance's mind was headed.

"When does she want to see me?" She not-so-subtly changed the subject.

He shrugged. "Probably whenever. You wanna wait until you get out of this joint?"

She pondered that for a moment.

"No. I think she should see me in here."

"If you say so, kid. I'll let the guards know that she'll be dropping by in the next day or so. If you change your mind - for any reason - just call me. I gotta be getting back to work now though."

"Thanks for coming by, Detective."

"Don't know why you still call me that," he grumbled good-naturedly before kissing her buzzed head, the hairs faintly tickling his face. "I'll see you later."

She wasn't entirely sure what she had just agreed to, but she knew it probably was going to change a lot of things for a lot of people.

* * *

**A/N2: Didn't forget about the Laurel drama, don't you worry! Again, I don't really see this as Det Lance choosing Felicity over his own daughter - parents get pissed at their kids, it happens, and is allowed to happen. Can't break that bond though, so don't worry. I actually like my (eventual) Laurel and I hope you do too as you continue this story!**

**Mama Smoak is coming back soon too, I know everyone keeps asking. The delay with her is part storytelling purposes (there are a lot of characters in this story and introducing more when there's so much going on isn't ideal) but also partly because I really don't think that Felicity would want to tell her mom before she herself has grasped the entire situation. Mama Smoak was pretty unaware of the goings on in her life when she came to visit, so they clearly don't talk that much. ANYWAY - she comes soon, I promise. Lots of stuff happening.**


	26. NSA NPR NBD

**A/N: Firstly - thank you all so much for your positive thoughts towards my aunt. Treatment for her leukemia - CML - has come a long way in recent years, which is excellent! Still awaiting staging results (she had a 'dry' bone aspiration - aka she didn't get put under, like Felicity does before every chemo - but it didn't get enough cells, so she's gonna get put under next week. I'll know more then!) but the best thing about this is that we have a huge family vacation planned for a few weeks from now, so everyone will be together. As much as I was dreading this vacation before ("no, grandma, I don't have a boyfriend or a husband or any children in my womb at this current moment") I am really grateful it'll give us all time to be together in light of the current circumstances.**

**AS FOR THE STORY - duh duh la laaaaaa - here comes Laurel. Yeah, she sucks in the beginning, but if she and/or Felicity doesn't make you smile by the end of the chapter, well...they should, ok?**

**I love all of you a lot!**

* * *

"Laurel is going to drop by sometime this week and see me."

Felicity watched as Oliver's fork paused as it was almost to his mouth before he slowly lowered it back towards his salad.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"You don't seem too surprised." It was hard for her to get a read on his emotions at that moment; his face had a million different microexpressions flashing too fast for her to interpret.

"I was aware she wanted to see you, yes."

"You talked to her," she accused.

Oliver took a bite, this time choosing to chew slowly and deliberately.

"I'm not going to forget you talked to her just because it's taking you a decade to chew your lettuce."

He swallowed. "This is kale, and it is actually closer to wild cabbage than most domesticated forms of vegetables."

"Is this how you feel when I talk? Just tell me when you talked to her, Oliver."

"It was two days ago, when I went out to get some different soups for you to try."

"And you weren't going to tell me _because_...?"

"Because it wasn't important. She caught me at the cafe and we talked for maybe five minutes before I left. That's it."

"Well, it's important to me." She hated how small her voice sounded just then. "I thought we were doing better with the talking. We were doing more of it. And it was talkier. Lots of talking."

"Hey, we were - we _are_," he reassured, leaving his fork on his plate and taking her hand in his as they sat at the small table in her room. "I didn't mean to hide this from you or to keep it a secret. It really wasn't important to me. She wants to use you to get to her father and I'm not going to let that happen. Simple as that."

"Is it?" She questioned, searching his eyes. "There's nothing simple about this, Oliver. I know you think she wants to 'use me' or whatever, but it's more than that. You know that Lance hasn't talked to her since she yelled at him at the coffee shop? That was like, weeks ago! I may not like Laurel, but I like him, and he needs to talk to her. He needs her in his life. She just doesn't understand right now. And I can help that."

"And you think seeing you here, in the hospital, will help her understand?"

"I do. And I mean, I won't lie, there's a part of me that wants to see the look on her face when she realizes how ridiculous it is that me and her dad could ever be sleeping together."

He smiled at her, brushing his thumb along her knuckles one last time before resuming eating. She had to control herself to not fan her face. She felt like the room was way too hot, despite the goosebumps that had suddenly erupted on her skin. This damn man and his damn touch.

"Do you want me to be here with you?"

"I think that is an awful idea."

"Had to offer."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course you did."

* * *

The next morning, Felicity wheeled her way down to the pediatric oncology ward, intent on seeing Trey. She wasn't disappointed, finding him in the small computer lab with one of the computers entirely taken apart, pieces and parts scattered around the room.

"I guess we can skip the 'organized chaos' lesson I had planned out in my head," she joked, taking in the scene before her.

"Hey, Homegirl! Look at you, up and about!"

"Can't hold me down for too long. What are you working on?"

"Oh, let me know what you think - I was thinking that if I just replaced this motherboard with a slightly modified one, using those tricks you showed me, I can get this computer running fast enough to stream some games online!"

"'Tricks' makes it sound like I'm teaching you magic, but that's not a bad idea. Maybe I can get you a refurbished graphics card, too, and that'll help with the frames-per-second. You're just going to want to divert a bit more energy using that wire to the fan to make sure it doesn't overheat. It's gonna have to work a bit harder to keep up with that processing speed."

"But you think it'll work?" He looked at her sincerely and she couldn't help the smile she gave him.

"I think not only will it work, but it's a great idea, Trey."

"Sweet!" He held his hand out for a high five, which she obliged him with. "_Computer_ magic, baby, that's what it's all about."

"Just don't tell them who taught you this when you start streaming GTA V, okay? I do _not_ want to be responsible for corrupting the minds of minors all from within a hospital."

"But outside of a hospital?"

"Eh, that's not too bad. I can get away with that. Speaking of, I feel like you're always in here. Don't you ever go home?"

He shrugged, intently rewiring the motherboard in front of him. "Sometimes. But most of the time I'm here. My immune system is pretty shot and my house in the Glades is a bit of a mess. Anytime I spend more than five minutes there, I get pretty sick anyway and land right back in this place."

That sounded fairly common with kids in the Glades; Felicity remember Stephanie, Casey's mom saying something similar. Not for the first time, she thanked her lucky stars that she had the friends and family that she did, and a home that she could stay in safely.

"That sucks," she murmured.

"Sure does. But hey, what about you? You've been in here for a while now too."

"Eh, doesn't seem like that long when I can't really remember the beginning part. I was mostly out of it when I was in ICU. But I did keep your transistor radio, I'll have you know. Oliver hates it, which means naturally, I love it."

"It gets mad channels now though! That thing is sick!"

"I know! Oliver's just mad that I can listen to NPR now for hours."

"So that's the roommate, huh? He looked like more than a roommate when I met him." He looked up and waggled his eyebrows at her, to which she rolled her eyes and elbowed the teen.

"You met grumpy Oliver, I think. He's not the best version. But yeah, that's the roommate."

"He looked pretty pissed about you being in there."

"He was more pissed about the photo leaking, I think. He doesn't take things like that lightly."

"You ever find out who took the photo? Your security dude was asking me like I was the one who took it! Like I would ever sell out the girl who is gonna get GTA up in this bitch," he laughed a little at the memory. "But seriously, you ever figure it out?"

"No, not yet."

"For real? I thought with all your NSA stuff and security that you'd be all over that."

Despite telling him multiple times that she didn't actually work for the NSA, Trey insisted that she did and that was the true reasoning for the security. Even now, when it was clear that it was because of Oliver's insane protective streak, he still wouldn't let it go.

"The NSA does not care about this, I promise you. But I'll figure it out sooner or later, once I get out of here."

"For real?"

"Yep. My laptop doesn't really have the processing power I need to go through footage and stuff like that, but I have another that will be able to find out, no problem. Just gotta get home first."

"You have like, a custom computer? Just for you?"

Well, she had actually been referring to the computers at the Foundry, but that was close enough. And she _had_ built herself a pretty badass custom computer for her house, but she had sold that when it came time for egg harvesting. The Arrow computers were the only thing she had left now. She figured that was a bit too much information for the kid, so she she decided to just pretend like it was still her own PC she was talking about.

"Built it myself," she boasted a little.

"Whoa. That is seriously cool."

"You fix this thing up and I bet the next thing you do is build your own, too. It's not much harder than this, and it's waaaaaay more satisfying. Trust me."

"I don't know, Homegirl. If I can really get this thing to work, I'm gonna take apart all of these and fix 'em up real nice."

"Not a bad plan," she agreed. "Tell you what, you get out of here sometime soon and we can see about building a computer, the two of us."

"You serious?" He put down the computer parts in his hands and looked at her. His eyes were doing their trademark sparkle and she couldn't help but delight in the fact that she was a little bit responsible for the passion that was inside of this incredible young man.

"Dead serious. Not every day I find someone who wants to listen to me talk about this kind of stuff, after all. Gotta capitalize on it."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Homegirl. You just wanna see what kind of flair I'll put in it. I get it, I get it. I'll let you see what's up my sleeve, just 'cause you've been so nice to me."

"How kind of you."

He didn't stop smiling for the next two hours they spent together.

* * *

Her afternoon had started with a cryptic text from Oliver, simply saying, "I'll be by after."

She had no idea what he was talking about - after what, exactly? She was due to get discharged the next day or so, god willing, and there hadn't been any complications that she knew of that would jeopardize that.

A few minutes later and Marcus, her favorite security guard, popped his head in.

"A Miss Laurel Lance is downstairs for you. Should I send her up?"

Oh. Of course Oliver knew that before she did.

"Miss Smoak?"

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Felicity?" She teased him gently.

Marcus was a huge guy, bigger than Dig or Oliver, but he was younger, too, probably around her age, always quick with a sweet smile and understanding nod. He was lighter skinned than Dig but just barely; if she was being objective and putting her feelings for Oliver to the side, she would say that he was a really attractive guy.

"Sorry, Miss _Felicity_," he exaggerated his apology.

"Miss Felicity? Ugh, that's almost as bad as Miss Smoak. Do you think you could help make sure I don't get tangled in these wires and help me to the table?"

She didn't usually ask anything of him, unsure of how comfortable he was with any of this, but she was happy to note that he agreed instantly.

He gently held her wires away from her chest as she slipped on a zip-up sweater, and diligently hung her saline bag to the portable pole attached to the wheelchair. (She drank tons of water during and after chemo but it was never enough for these doctors, apparently, and the saline bag came with her pretty much wherever she went until she was discharged.) When she was finally out of bed and sitting by the table, she smiled and thanked him, letting him know that she was now ready for Laurel.

Which, of course, might have been true physically, but emotionally she was anything but ready. She had debated a long time with how she should present herself to Laurel - should she stay in bed, looking every bit the invalid she didn't want to be? Should she have her wig on, or leave it off, making the first encounter as awkward as possible? She finally decided to be by the table near the gorgeous windows that overlooked Starling City, and the wig was firmly in place. It gave her strength and confidence, two things she knew she was going to need in order to get through this little meeting, and besides, this was _her_ room. She wanted to dominate it in the way that she knew how, and she couldn't do that from a bed.

Once she figured out how she was going to position herself, the only thing left to determine was what she was going to say. Turned out that was a bit trickier than she had expected. A part of her was dreading this meeting for the obvious reason, which is that she didn't want to tell another person that she had cancer, and she definitely didn't want that person to be one that was so intertwined with everyone else in her life. Also, that person accused her of sleeping with a man that was old enough to be her father, so that didn't help matters either. But beyond that, she was dreading the impact that this might have on the rest of her life. Would Laurel and Oliver bond over this? Would Lance feel as if he could be completely honest with his biological daughter now, and spend more time with her, leaving Felicity alone in the dust?

They were ridiculous thoughts but also realistic ones, and they were wreaking havoc with her delicate emotional balance. She knew she needed to do this, but man, did it suck.

A sharp knock interrupted her musings and she mentally shrugged off her dark thoughts. She knew she was going to end up saying something that didn't make sense anyway, might as well get it over with.

"Felicity, Miss Lance is here to see you," Marcus told her with a wink. She couldn't help but to give him a genuine smile, murmuring her thanks.

"Whoa." Laurel took in the room, and Felicity remembered the same feeling she had when she first saw it. That felt like an eon ago. Now this room was more like home to her than she wanted it to be. "Nice digs."

What was she supposed to say to that? 'Thanks?' She had nothing to do with this room and they both knew it wasn't her that was paying for this room and it wasn't her who had even chosen to have this kind of set up. Instead, she settled for nodding silently, pursing her lips and praying for this be over.

"How are you doing?"

"Better." An honest answer if not a detail-laden one.

It was Laurel's turn to nod, unsure of what to say. Wanting to hurry this entire situation up, Felicity gave her an out.

"What are you doing here, Laurel?"

"You uh, probably know that my dad's not talking to me right now. Or Ollie, actually. And you're kind of the only thing they have in common, so…"

Oh, brother. This was going to be harder than she thought, especially if she hadn't given up any of her ridiculous notions about her relationships with either man.

"I don't tell them who they can and can't talk to. They're grownups, they can make their own decisions," she explained, not unkindly.

Laurel sucked in a sharp breath between her teeth but didn't comment on that, instead, choosing to try a different approach. "You wanted to say something to me the other week, at the coffee shop. My dad interrupted you and said it wasn't any of my business but...I'd really like to know what it was."

"Curiosity killed the cat," Felicity muttered, before her eyes widened as she realized that Laurel was standing only a few feet away from her and _definitely_ heard what she said. "Not that you're a cat! Or that you're going to die. Because you probably won't. I mean, if anyone in this room is going to die, it'd be me, which is a little morbid, but I heard that gallows humor is kind of common in these types of situations which works out pretty well for me because everyone is always telling me that my sense of humor sucks so now I think it still sucks but at least it's kind of expected now and what...was the question…?"

"I thought you said you were better?" Laurel was looking at her curiously and it was enough to make her fidget in her chair. She had known that her little diatribe was inevitable, so she wasn't surprised with herself, just casually embarrassed, per usual.

"I am! For now. It's not really a…"

"Not really a what? What aren't you telling me, Felicity?"

Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with just how ridiculous her entire life was: this conversation, this disease, this insane urge to keep everything a secret when it was so completely obvious under the mask of her fake hair and makeup.

She let out a frustrated sigh before just going for it.

"This is stupid," she mumbled. And then she reached up and pulled her wig off. She had known that she was eventually going to take it off to show Laurel, since that seemed to be the only way to convince people these days that she was indeed sick, so she had foregone the wig cap she usually wore, and winced as the scratchy wig scraped her sensitive head. Her hair was still buzzed but it had thinned quite a lot, with a few patches looking more bald than she was comfortable with. "I'm sick, Laurel. I have cancer."

She wasn't sure why it was so easy to just blurt the words out right then, but she suspected it had something to do with the fact that she wasn't that worried with hurting Laurel's feelings at that moment. She just wanted her to see and realize so she could get back to her new-normal life, which didn't include spontaneous visits from Detective Lance's eldest daughter.

"Oh my god."

"That about sums it up." She looked down, idly playing with the silky strands of hair in her lap.

"And Oliver and my dad know…" She was talking to herself but Felicity felt like this was something she needed to work through on her own. Until her next sentence. "And _that's_ why they're both dating you."

"Are you _kidding_ me, Laurel? I'm not dating your father! I understand that this is hard to grasp because _trust me_, I am still struggling with it and I've had like, months, but you're going to have to get used to it. I am sick. I am not dating your father. He is my friend, and he has been nothing but amazing to me through all this."

"But I found your hair-"

"Oh my god! Chemotherapy! Have you ever seen an episode of Grey's Anatomy? Or Scrubs? Or okay, you kind of look like a Private Practice kind of girl, but it's hard to tell when you're glaring at me but seriously, I lost my hair because of chemotherapy. That's all."

"Why wouldn't he tell me?" Laurel sat down hard in the chair adjacent to Felicity, who looked towards the door. This would have been a really nice to be interrupted by just about anyone. The last thing she felt qualified to do was give Laurel advice on her family, and unfortunately, Laurel looked absolutely stunned. As if she really didn't understand what was happening. It was a feeling that Felicity could relate to.

"He wanted to, but he was respecting my wishes. I trust you not to say anything to anyone else, Laurel. I'm not really crazy about people knowing."

"So you two never…?"

"No! And that's weird! And gross! So stop suggesting it, you're making everyone feel really uncomfortable whenever you do."

"I really thought though…"

"I _know_ what you really thought and let me reiterate: weird. And gross."

"And my dad has been...helping you?"

"He's a really great guy. He's been with me for all my doctors appointments and surgeries and he comes and brings me lunch every other day, not to mention coffee when I can have it."

"And when you said that you were 'better for now,' you meant...what? That you're not going to be better forever?"

She shrugged. This was the part that she wasn't really good with. Explaining to people that while she might be okay for now, it wasn't a guarantee. "I meant that I still have a long road ahead of me. 5 more rounds of chemo plus radiation. And even after that, no one knows if I'll be cured. It doesn't really work like that."

She knew that her chemotherapy was working, her last lumbar puncture and bone biopsy showed that no cancer cells had moved into her spinal fluid and he counts were down from 87% in her bone marrow to 34%, which was great, but there was still such a huge question mark hanging above her future. She had no idea which way the pendulum was going to swing, and her infection last week only drove home that point. 'Better' was such a subjective term at that current moment.

"I'm so so-"

"Don't apologize," she rushed to cut Laurel off. "At least, not for me having cancer. You didn't know and it's not your fault. But you should apologize to your dad. I know I'm not part of your family or whatever, but he was really hurt by what you said to him. He doesn't like not talking to you, but…"

"But I was a royal bitch. Got it."

"That's not what I was going to-"

"It's okay, I know, that was all me saying it. I was so _sure_ and now...this is just a lot to take in, you know?"

"I have an idea, yes."

She had the good grace to look chagrined at that. "Sorry."

"For assuming that I didn't know what this was like or for accusing me of sleeping with your father?" She had been serious before when she told her that she didn't want an apology for her simply having cancer, but that didn't excuse the things she said to her at the coffee shop. Some of those words still stung.

"Both?" Laurel tousled her hair, causing a stab of jealousy to burn through Felicity. She had gorgeous hair. _Real_ hair. "I'm sorry about a lot of things I said that day. About everything. You and my dad, your hair, you and Ollie."

"He's just a friend. He's helping to take care of me too during all of this. I'm not - I'm not his 'sloppy seconds,' or whatever you said."

"No, that would be me." Felicity stiffened in her chair, unsure of what to say to _that_ revelation. "It's okay. Most girls in Starling City are at this point, and it's about time I get used to it. I just felt like...it was as if everywhere I turned, everyone in my life was flocking to you and I just assumed…"

"That I was amazing at sex, I get it." She actually clapped her hand in front of her mouth, willing the words to return back to their origin. "I have no idea why I said that. I am so sorry."

Laurel actually smiled at that. "You're funny."

The phrase sounded so familiar, so Sara-like, that it caused a pang of longing in Felicity. She missed her other Lance, but she knew that the time was coming near when she would return home, and she was under no illusion that their conversation would be as easy as this one. If this could be considered 'easy' in any sense of the word.

They sat together for a long while, both lost in their own minds and mulling over the implications of their brief, yet very deep, talk.

"I should go," Laurel eventually stood. "I have to go apologize to...everyone I have ever met, I think." She paused at the door. "I know you said it wasn't my fault but still. I'm sorry this happened to you, Felicity. You don't deserve it."

"I don't think anyone does," she responded, her mind drifting a few floors down to where Trey and Alex and Casey were still battling for their lives.

They shared another small smile and then once again, Felicity was alone with her thoughts. And exhausted beyond belief. As she crawled back into bed, she kept reminding herself that she thought that conversation was 'easy.' Easy, easy, easy.

* * *

**A/N2: So there will probably a little tiny blurb on For Darker Days this week where Laurel runs into Oliver while he's buying soup, but I'm not gonna count that as one of my bi-weekly postings. Mostly because it's shorter than most, and also because I love posting real long stuff for y'all to read. ALSO - because guess who shows up next chapter?! kjfhsdjkghskglskdh**


	27. Boxer Briefs and Brunch

**A/N: Duh duh la laaaaa~~~~**

* * *

It was one week into October, one week since Felicity had been discharged from the hospital, and one week of her being bored out of her mind. She was rocking back and forth on her heels by the front door, waiting impatiently for Oliver to finish tying his shoes.

"Come _on_, Oliver!"

"Since when are you this excited about your blood draws?" He knew exactly what had her so restless and she was sure he was tying his shoes even slower now.

"I made this appointment early in the day so that we would hear my results by lunchtime and you are going to make us late!"

"I'm going to do no such thing."

They had plenty of time, that was true, but Felicity was eager to get her blood drawn so that she could hear that her counts were all up and she was free to leave the confines of her house. The first week off chemo usually had her feeling pretty bad still, lots of naps and the stray bout of nausea, but she had been doing so well the past few days and was more than ready to get out of the house and to the lair, not to mention lunches with Thea and coffee dates with Lance. Not that she was enjoying coffee lately; it was far too acidic for her sensitive mouth, so she was usually trying to swill down some chamomile tea while giving Lance the evil eye for enjoying the latte she so desperately wanted.

That was probably the hardest part of this last round of chemo. The mouth ulcers were pretty severe, and her diet had been limited for so long. They had finally healed to a place where she could enjoy foods that weren't just mushy, but she had to say goodbye to a lot of her favorites - one of which being _caffeine_. While coffee was acidic in its own right, Felicity had hoped that she could just take a caffeine supplement or something to keep her energy levels up. It wasn't ideal and was a bit of a Jesse Spano kind of move, but she needed _something_. Instead, she was told by Dr. Fox that caffeine alone stimulated acid production in the body, and she should avoid it at all costs. As if chemotherapy didn't make her tired enough, now she was defenseless against fatigue.

She didn't let that deter her though. She was going to get her counts done, she was going to come back and finish that last level of Lego Superheroes and she was going to wait by the phone until she heard that she was healthy enough to go to the lair. Maybe a nap would be shoved in there somewhere, but she was determined to spend the night with her babies down at the Foundry.

"Do you think I need a coat?"

"_Oliver_!"

He smirked at her, knowing very well how riled he was making her. She tried to not smile back but she ended up just hiding her face and pointing at the door. He was such a pain in her ass.

* * *

They were back at her apartment in record time, the clinic running on some semblance of a schedule that day, and Felicity was lambasting Oliver's taste - or lack thereof - in music.

"No, Oliver, you can't still use the island as your excuse for only knowing the words to Limp Bizkit's 'Nookie' and no other song. You've been back for so long. You need to stop listening to music that makes me want to cringe."

"I also know all the words to most Linkin Park songs."

"Did your iPod just get stuck there? There _are_ bands that start with other letters of the alphabet, you know."

"Oh yeah? Okay, how about 'K.' Bands that start with it. Go." He fished in his pocket for the keys to the door, enjoying this simple teasing that they were sharing. It was mindless and dumb, sure, but she was smiling at him and that was all he needed.

"The Kinks. The Kooks. Kelly Clarkson. Kwabs. Kiss. Kings of Leon. Kula Shaker."

"_That_," he paused before pushing the door open, "is the name of something I saw on a late night infomercial, I'm sure of it."

She laughed and pushed his arm jokingly, to which he responded by casually draping it around her shoulders, swinging the door open.

He could tell immediately that something was off, choosing not to relinquish his hold on Felicity, but to tighten it.

"What's the matter?" She asked softly.

He wasn't sure. "I think someone is-"

Felicity gasped at the figure who came out of the hallway.

"Sara!"

Instantly she was out from underneath Oliver's arm and throwing herself at the girl who caught her easily, holding on just as tight.

"You're back! I missed you so much! I'm so glad you're home!"

"Me too," Oliver agreed as he reluctantly pulled Felicity out of her arms and pointed at the hand sanitizer that sat on a nearby table. "Have you been sick recently? I know we can't know where you've been but I need to know if you've come into contact with anything particularly infectious."

Sara gave him the side eye as she assured him no before diverting her attention to Felicity.

"You sick, Bug?"

Bug had been a nickname that she had come up with for Felicity when she realized that the girl knew more about what happened between all the members of Team Arrow than anyone realized. Between her actual surveillance equipment and her ability to listen in and eavesdrop, picking up on subtle body language cues and the like, Sara had dubbed her a human 'bug,' and it had stuck ever since.

Not wanting to lie and not wanting to delve right into that conversation, Felicity just stood there happily, smiling at her friend.

"It is so good to see you!"

"I'm happy to be back. You were my first port of call since no one seemed to be at the club. Which brings me to this…" She leaned down and picked up a stray pair of Oliver's boxer briefs which must have fallen out of his bags that he kept by the couch. "Which one of you finally got the balls up to ask the other one out? I thought I was going to come back to the same sexual tension as always, but I'm glad you guys are getting it out of your system. I hope I'm not interrupting anything, actually."

Oh god. Felicity and Oliver were both rooted to the spot, unable to even bring themselve to look at each other.

"It's not, uh, it's not really _like that_, Sara…"

"I just found the man's underwear on your living room floor. You're going to have to try harder than that if you want me to believe you're not sleeping together." She took in their stricken faces and couldn't help but laugh. "I'm happy for you two, really! It's about time. Both of you always circling each other, it was getting kind of old."

"Oliver is sort of living here!" She had to say _something_ to get Sara to stop talking about their nonexistent sex lives but why her mind decided that was the first thing to come out, she was unsure.

"You guys are living together?" She looked around, realizing that she did see evidence of Oliver's continued presence around the place. "Good for you, Bug. Gettin' what you want. And is this a new haircut?"

She reached out for a lock of Felicity's wig and she couldn't help but to step back out of habit. She was sure the second anyone touched her hair that they would know it wasn't real. She found her back against Oliver's chest and stopped, needing the touch of him to get her through that moment.

"What's going on? You two look like you've seen a ghost or something. I wasn't gone for that long!"

"Felicity." Oliver's voice rumbled deep in his chest and she felt the vibrations flow into her. "She needs to know."

"Know what?"

"Something happened when you were gone, Sara…" Felicity whispered, unsure of how to even broach this subject.

"I can see that," she smirked back.

"No, something else. Something important."

"Okay, well, we can talk about it over brunch, what do you say? It's still early and I'm starving. Plus, I've totally missed the eggs benedict over at Ralfio's."

Felicity almost lit up at that. Getting brunch together was somewhat of a tradition with Sara, and she was so damn happy the woman was back, she didn't even care that she had to tell her about everything that had happened. She just wanted to spend time with her friend. She looked back at Oliver who shook his head minutely. They hadn't gotten her counts back. She wasn't supposed to go out yet.

"I...I can't, Sara. We really need to talk."

"Okay...sure." She sunk into the armchair, leaving the couch open for the pair. "What's up?"

Oliver's hand found Felicity's on her thigh and she grabbed onto it tightly. She needed all the strength she could get for this.

"Do you remember before you left? And I was sick?"

"Yes. You went to the doctors after I left though, didn't you?" She looked to Oliver. "Didn't she?"

This part hurt the most for Felicity. Right before she told the news, when she could see that it was sinking in that there was something serious happening and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

"I did," she confirmed. "And um, well, it wasn't great." She swallowed thickly, her mouth suddenly drier than usual. For all the preparation she had been doing, for all the times she had rehearsed this in her head, her own throat was stymieing the words from coming out.

"What happened? What's wrong? Felicity, you're scaring me." Sara's voice got softer but her pleas seemed to get louder.

Felicity traded a look with Oliver, one that spoke volumes about how much she didn't want to be doing this right then and there, and his answering one of sympathy and strength. He gave her another small nod and she closed her eyes briefly, gathering her strength.

"I was diagnosed with cancer."

There it was. She had done it. She had told someone that was really close to her, really important to her, about her sickness. She felt a strange combination of pride and heartbreak at this. Oliver leaned over and pressed a hard kiss to the side of her head, conveying his pride better than any words he could ever offer.

"Okay," Sara managed to get out, her eyes unfocused. "Wow. Okay. So. What kind of cancer?"

"Uh…" Felicity looked to Oliver, unsure if she was hallucinating. Was Sara really processing that fast? "Lymphoma. Non-Hodgkin's. Aggressive, stage 4."

"I don't know much about that," she told her apologetically, biting her lip.

"That's okay! I mean, Oliver knows like, everything. He's a walking encyclopedia when it comes to this. I um...I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I mean, I didn't know where you were or what you were doing but I didn't want to worry you and I kind of wanted to tell you to your face…"

"It's fine, Bug. You wouldn't have been able to reach me, where I was. Not even _you_, Ollie," she told him as he opened his mouth to contest her. "I'm sorry I wasn't here for you though. Thank you for telling me now."

"You're not...mad?"

"Would it help if I was? I mean, if you really want me to be-"

"No, no, it's fine, I'm glad! I just kind of thought. I don't know. I'm happy you're here now."

"Me too."

Sensing that the two girls needed some time alone, Oliver clapped his hands together.

"How about I go down to Ralfio's and pick up some brunch for us and bring it back here. Felicity should get the all clear to go out later today, but until then, she's homebound, unfortunately." The girls nodded their acquiescence. "Okay, eggs benedict for you, how about maybe a spinach quiche for you? We've got shakes here if you need something else after."

"Sounds good."

"I'll be back."

He left the two women sitting across from each other in the living room, both of them feeling suitably awkward. For Felicity, it was strange being with someone who she knew was going to have so many questions, when she herself had finally answered them. She didn't really want to relive the beginning of her diagnosis - Team Arrow's discovery was painful enough the first time, and she tried very hard to not think of each chemotherapy session after it had passed. Was Sara going to want to talk about all of this? She wouldn't blame her if she did, but she would have preferred Oliver's presence for it.

She watched as Sara's hand drifted to her mouth, and an unreadable expression crossed her face. This was it. This was when the questions came.

"I can't believe I insinuated that you were sleeping with Ollie. You're not, right? That didn't happen yet?"

"...No. It didn't."

"Oh my god. Are you mad?"

She could hardly believe her ears. Was she seriously asking her if she was mad about making a few comments about her and Oliver's sex life? Felicity made worse comments about the two of them together on a daily basis. It was embarrassing, sure, but definitely not something to get mad at.

"No, of course not! He spends a good portion of his time holding my hair as I puke, so nope. No sex." She paused, remembering. "Not...not that this is my hair, or anything."

"Oh, whoa. You've already...it's gone?"

"Well, not _gone_ gone, but mostly…" She slipped the wig off and tugged on the wig cap, revealing her shorn head. "So, to answer your earlier question: yeah. New hair."

Sara smiled that secretive smile of her's. "Oliver shaved his head for you, didn't he?"

"I mean, not _for_ me...he just…"

"Are you sure you're not sleeping together?"

Felicity laughed hard at that. A true belly laugh that shook her entire body. She hadn't ever anticipated Sara's reaction to be like this. So completely accepting. When she finally calmed down, Sara's own giggles petered out as well and she smoothly got up and relocated herself to the couch next to her, gripping Felicity's hand tightly.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here for you for all of this. I wish I had been."

"It's…" She didn't want to say that it was okay because she felt like that was minimizing Sara's effect in her life. But on the other hand, she didn't want to cause her to worry at all. She hadn't been 'fine,' but she had been supported, which was what was important. "You're here now, and that's all that matters. Actually...your dad has been here a lot, too. He's been _really_ awesome helping me with this."

"Of course he was. He's a good one. Looks like you surrounded yourself with those."

And unlike with Laurel, Felicity saw no jealousy or animosity in Sara's eyes. She looked genuinely happy that she had these wonderful people on her life. It soothed a part of her that she hadn't realized needed it.

"So you're like...home now? Or how does this work?"

"I'm home, for the next week or so. I should find out today if I can go out and do stuff. I got a pretty bad infection a few weeks ago, so everyone is nervous about letting me out of the house. Especially Oliver. He's like, insanely protective, but I guess it was really scary so...listening to my doctors is the least that I can do."

"But you're okay now?"

"As okay as I can be, yeah."

"And you're doing okay with…"

"Having no life that isn't ruled by hospital visits and blood draws and blood counts? Life with a life-threatening illness? Yeah, I'm okay. I wish I still had my own hair and I could do without the mouth sores, but yeah. It's okay."

"I was going to ask if you're doing okay with Ollie."

"Oh!" She let out a silent prayer, asking for him to come in right then and rescue her, but she knew it hadn't been long enough. She was on her own for this. "Yeah, well. He's been great, like I said."

"You guys are different," she commented.

"I guess...I guess so. He was really mad in the beginning. I didn't tell him or Dig or Roy at first and they found out kind of abruptly. He was pissed. But then he took a leave of absence from QC and," she shrugged. "Here we are."

"He really lives with you?"

"Yeah. Isn't that weird? There's nothing going on between us though. He is, however, the best roommate. Cooks, cleans, holds your hair when you get sick, takes you to the hospital when your fever gets too high - he's a real Renaissance man."

"I can see." They chatted more about Oliver and the team and how they all had rallied around her. Felicity couldn't help but to boast about them to someone who would appreciate that and see it for what it was worth. After a while, Sara perked up a bit, cutting off her sentence about Dig and Lyla and how dumb cute they were together. "He's home."

Felicity wasn't sure if it was chemo affecting her hearing like they said it might or if Sara really was just that much more keen than she was.

"I said it before and I'll say it now - don't let him get away from you, Bug."

Before she could respond, the door was opening and Oliver was bustling in, Dig and Roy on his heels, all carrying bags.

"Sorry that took so long," he apologized. "These guys heard you were back, Sara, and I didn't want them to eat us out of house and home, so I had to stop for donuts."

Sara quickly turned to Felicity. "House and _home_, would you look at that?"

"Shut up," she mumbled, elbowing her out of the way. She had some quiche to eat.

* * *

For the first time in a long time, the entirety of Team Arrow was gathered together and Felicity wasn't the main topic. She had to admit - it was more than a little nice.

Sara was the one being asked all the questions for once, and she happily took the spotlight, answering everyone as best she could. She asked a few questions about everyone else, and Felicity felt the shame of the disease burn into her a little at that. With every question Sara asked the group, she felt a little more like a burden - everyone's life had revolved around _her_ for the past few months. Roy spoke a little about his research on Chernobyl (Sara had been there and assured him it probably wasn't as cool as he was imagining it to be, but he could go if he wanted to risk the radiation exposure [he didn't.]) but for the most part, everyone else could only relate stories about the hospital and her treatments.

Vigilante business was covered in a few short minutes; a lack of progress on the Triad's latest shady dealings only compounded by Felicity's unexpected hospital stay made for a boring news cycle. When the topic of her disease was inevitably broached, she was pleased to note that Oliver took the brunt of the questions, only defaulting to her when it was something he didn't know or didn't have the experience to answer.

Her phone rang about an hour into their meal and before Felicity could even think about moving, Oliver was up, moving towards the living room where it was still plugged in.

"That'll be the hospital. I'll get it," he told her, squeezing her shoulder lightly as he passed by.

"I thought you said there was nothing going on between you two?" Sara asked quietly.

Both Roy and Dig broke out into laughter at that.

"She said that? In what universe is that true?" Roy cackled.

"He's got a point, Felicity." Dig's laughter was more restrained, but it still would occasionally shake his chest.

"Who's side are you on, anyway?" She hissed.

"Always on Team Felicity," Dig told her sincerely.

"Yeah, we're thinking about getting t-shirts made. You want one, Sara? Maybe we could get some hats, too. Don't worry, the shirts will be black."

"Of course I'm in," she agreed. "Anything for my girl."

She wanted to be put out, but Felicity couldn't help the smile on her face or the shaking of her head. She felt so lucky to be surrounded by so many great people. Her smile only grew when she spotted Oliver getting off the phone, also looking distinctly happy.

"And?"

"All counts are good. You are now free to move about Starling City," he told her as he stood above her, smiling down at her upturned face.

"Yes! Party!" At everyone's stunned looks, she continued. "And by 'party,' I mean Verdant and by 'Verdant,' I mean the lair and by 'the lair,' I mean I get to see my babies and actually use a computer that has processing capabilities above the hospital bandwidth."

"Because what else could you have possibly meant when you said 'party?'" Roy deadpanned as he shoved another donut into his mouth.

"I, for one, think it sounds great, Bug. I better go catch up with my dad before tonight though."

"But you're coming, right?" She didn't want to let the blonde out of her sight now that she knew she was back in town. She felt like she needed to explain so much more of her life, so much more that she missed out on.

"Yeah, of course. Gotta teach Dig some of my new moves I learned. Keep him on his toes."

"I'm always on my toes."

"Graceful like a ballerina," Roy joked around a mouthful of donut, dodging Dig's hand as it came out to smack him.

"You going to lie down for while?" Oliver asked Felicity quietly as everyone started clearing up the dishes.

"Just for a little bit," she admitted. She wasn't sure how he always knew when she was tired, especially when she tried so hard to keep any physical cues from showing. She never even yawned in front of him, but that didn't affect his ability to spot a fatigued Felicity one bit. She supposed it was easy enough to guess that day though, after such an event-filled morning. Between the hospital visit, the surprise of seeing Sara, and the unplanned group brunch, she felt a little drained. Knowing that she wanted to end up at the lair later on made it an easy decision to lie down for a spell.

"Go on. I'll clean up and bring you a water in a few minutes. It's almost time for your medicine, too," he reminded her, referencing her steroids, vitamins, and various other pills that she took on a strict regimen.

She smiled her gratitude, hugging Sara and the others tightly before disappearing down the hall. It was amazing the difference she felt in their group dynamics with Sara there. She finally felt like her entire family was home and she'd be damned if there was a better feeling than that.

* * *

**A/N2: Sara has a more important role coming up, of course, I for one am just so happy she is home. Yaaaaaay!**

**Up next: Felicity solves a mystery.**


	28. Not Playing Fair

**A/N: So happy that everyone else is happy that Sara is back! And she is here to STAY, do not worry. Let's get this ball rollin' on the rest of this! Also , I don't anticipate any changes in my posting schedule, but I am leaving on Wednesday and heading to Atlanta to hang out with my sister for a few weeks, so I cannot promise anything. Sisters make us all a bit insane, AMIRITE? Just kidding, she is my best friend in the entire universe, but on the off chance that it does push me back a day or so, I apologize in advance. :)! **

**Enjoy this chapter and everything that is to come!**

* * *

She had to admit that she felt a million times better after her nap and that feeling only intensified as Oliver held her hand and let her back down the stairs to the the lair underneath Verdant. In the past few months there had been a lot of changes down there, most notably, to Felicity, the way it smelled. The somewhat musty scent the air used to have was replaced with a more sterile, clean scent, due to the heavy antiseptics that the men used religiously to ensure a clean habitat for Felicity. She was surprised when she walked in that this new smell now registered with her; this _new_ scent now signified her home just as much as the old did. Strange how something so small could make such a big impact on her.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Sara teased from her spot on the training mats, sparring with the very dummy that Oliver had battled after he discovered her diagnosis. Her words lacked any heat behind them and instead just reminded Felicity of earlier times, when Sara would often say that to her when she'd come to the lair right after work, still donned in her typical short dress and heels.

She wasn't up for wearing heels these days, unfortunately, but she was pleased to note that she didn't look absolutely horrendous. A pair of jeans that had seen better days clung to her hips and legs, probably because they were dug out from her college days when she was barely a size smaller, and she had opted for a soft emerald green v-neck longsleeve shirt. The lair had a tendency to get hot, especially with so many people down there, but she was prone to feeling chilled lately, so she had opted for more layers. She knew that more than likely she'd end the night swaddled in the super-soft chenille blanket that Oliver had bought for her to keep down there anyway. She had made an effort that night to put on a light coating of makeup and her wig was in its rightful place on her head and something about that night just felt _right_ to Felicity. Like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

She sat down in front of her computers, switching on the monitors.

"I trust you and Dig didn't break anything when I was gone?"

"Hey, I could've broken something," Oliver chimed in.

"You used my computers?" She asked skeptically, well-aware of his aversion to technology.

"Well, no. But I could've."

"Mmhmm. Roy?"

"We didn't break anything. I don't think."

"Why does that not make me feel any better?"

"I didn't even tweet from there!"

"Much," Dig clarified for him. "What he meant was, he didn't tweet _much_."

Felicity gaped at Roy. "You know the rules! This is a cob-"

"Cobalt encrypted workstation, I know," he sighed.

"If you know, then why do you make me tell you so often?"

"Because I like the way your voice sounds when you get all grumpy," he cajoled with his trademark smile that melted Felicity's heart. He really was such a sweet kid and right when she was about to tell him so, she was interrupted.

"Go let Sara kick your ass," Oliver pushed Roy towards the training mats. Dig was waiting for him too, apparently looking forward to the spectacle of Roy eating the ground repeatedly. "So, I was thinking…"

"Yyyyyyes?" She watched as Oliver rested his arms on the top of her monitors. It was a true testament to how good he looked that she didn't yell at him for that right then and there. "Is there something you're working on? Anything you need from me right away?"

"Not really. But I thought maybe you wanted to go through the hospital footage." He held a USB port in between his fingers, dropping it into her opened palm. "It's all on there. There's hospital video surveillance plus all the emails from the editor of the news station and his contact with the pictures. If anyone is going to be able to find something, it's you. Dig mentioned some algorithms you had…"

"Yeah, some sifting and number recognition software that I've been working on. It's a bit rough, but…"

"It's better than we have right now, which is nothing."

"Oliver...you don't really think it was someone looking to get to _me_, do you? I mean, what are we really expecting me to find on here?"

He looked her in the eye, intent on remaining honest with her. "I have no idea. It could have just been an opportunity thing, where someone saw me in the hospital and took advantage of that, or it could also be someone following me around, waiting for the right time to leak this. I don't think it really is connected to you particularly, but your relationship with the Arrow and the police is becoming known in certain circles. I just don't want to leave any stone unturned when it comes to this." _When it comes to you_, he let hang unsaid in the air.

"Okay. Just let me know if you need something else, alright? I don't want this to take priority."

"You are _always_ a priority, Felicity," he told her sincerely, before taking off his shirt and making his way to the salmon ladder.

"That is so not playing fair," she mumbled to herself.

She almost had a heart attack when he turned around and winked at her before picking up the bar and starting his workout.

_Hot damn_.

* * *

It took her hours to pare down the hospital video footage and enhance the quality into something that she could work with in facial recognition databases. It took even longer to decrypt the emails from the news station and make sure that they weren't traceable, and she took it a step further and decided to just hack the entire network's servers to make sure that no one else had anything noteworthy on their email either.

It wasn't until the next night, hours into her banking algorithms that were tracking significantly large deposits of cash into any accounts, linked or not, when she finally found the break she had been looking for.

Two hours after that and she had figured it all out. And she wasn't happy with what she found.

"No way," she breathed, her hand dropping the mouse and falling into her lap as she stared at the data on the monitors in front of her.

"You find something?"

It was late and Oliver and was putting away his quiver and bow, having just returned from a patrol with Roy and Sara. Diggle had ducked out a bit earlier, trying to get some quality time in with Lyla, since their schedules were so hectic lately.

"Yeah. I mean, no. Not really. It's nothing."

"You did or you didn't?" He stepped to her side, unzipping his signature green jacket and looking at her quizzically.

"What's going on?" Sara returned from the bathroom, now dressed in street clothes, including a flowered shirt that was very un-Sara. "Don't ask. I have a thing with my dad later."

"Felicity was just about to tell us what she found on the person who leaked her photos to the news." Roy and Dig had filled Sara in on the more dramatic events that occurred in her absence, and she was well versed in the mystery that surrounded Felicity's short-lived celebrity status in Starling. She nodded at Oliver and turned to hear Felicity.

"She was?" Roy bounced across the room, his red hoodie slung over his arm. He was dressed to go up to the club and help Thea out, but he definitely wanted to hear what Felicity had found.

"I-I just-" She floundered for a second, words escaping her. Three faces looked at her expectantly. She felt trapped. "Is it really important, knowing who did it? I mean, nothing else has happened since then and they didn't even tell anyone that I had cancer, so…"

"So?" Oliver didn't understand where her sudden reluctance was coming from. "That doesn't mean that they won't once they find out. This could put you in some serious danger. It could put _us _in some serious danger."

"But if it didn't? If it was just some sort of mistake then it wouldn't really matter, would it?"

"What did you find, Felicity? Tell me."

Roy's eyes darted between Oliver and her as he internally debated if this was something he had to stick around for. As curious as he was, he didn't savor the thought of Oliver lashing out again, especially since a lot of times it ended up coming down on him, and the man looked like he was getting frighteningly close to that point again.

She knew she had to tell him, tell everyone, what she found, but that didn't make it any easier. She quickly reminded herself that they were being honest with each other as of late, and she didn't want to risk the trust that came with that. It was better to just bite the bullet.

"It was Stephanie."

"...Who the hell is Stephanie?" Oliver racked his brain for a familiar name but was drawing a blank.

"Stephanie Cassidy."

His mind still remained empty of anything associated with that name. Suddenly, Roy started snapping his fingers, the name on the tip of his tongue.

"Cassidy, Cassidy - the kid from downstairs at the hospital! That's her mom, right?"

"Yeah," Felicity said quietly. "That's her mom."

"Get me her address," Oliver commanded, zipping his jacket back up.

"You can't - you can't go after her as the Arrow, Oliver!"

"The hell I can't. She took those pictures of you, she sold them, she put you in danger."

"Which is something the Arrow wouldn't care about!" She watched him pause and reached out to touch his arm gently. "The Arrow doesn't care about Felicity Smoak or Oliver Queen."

"Fine," he bit out, quickly unzipping and throwing the jacket on the table next to him. "I'll go as Oliver Queen then."

Felicity looked to Sara, who was more than a little confused at the turn of events.

"You can't!" She cried, effectively halting his progress as he crossed the room. "I think we should just let this go, okay?"

"No, not 'okay,' Felicity. Just last week you were ready to find this person and turn them in. What changed? Why are you suddenly giving up?"

"I'm not...I'm not giving up, I just think it's not that big of a deal. I mean, she knew I had cancer and didn't say anything. That counts for something, right?"

"Yeah, it counts as leverage the next time something happens to you, do you understand that? Who's to say she's not just biding her time, waiting for another fucking infection to set in and scare us half to death before leaking that bit of news too? I'm not going to just sit around and wait for that to happen!"

"Well, I'm asking you to." Her voice was low and strained; she could feel the tears threatening to fall at any moment.

"Why?" He finally asked. "Tell me why. Give me one good reason."

"It's...it's complicated."

"That's not a reason."

"Just don't do anything tonight," she pleaded with him. "Please."

He looked at the ceiling for a long time before responding.

"Fine. I have to go get some things at the Queen manor. I'll see you later at home. Sara will take you."

She appreciated the way he waited for her to nod in acknowledgment before storming away. At least that was progress. She rubbed her temples, trying to stave off the headache she knew was coming, like it always did after a tension-filled conversation with Oliver.

"You wanna tell me what that was about?" Sara finally asked.

She let out a weak laugh. Where the hell would she begin? She saw Roy glancing at his watch and she gave him a smile.

"Go find Thea."

"Are you sure? I could stay if you want."

"I'm sure. Go on, Sara and I will be fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

He gave her a quick hug and disappeared up the stairs, the heavy door closing with a loud click behind him.

"The mom, Stephanie, she- her daughter, Casey, is in the hospital with me at Starling General, in the pediatric oncology unit. She has cancer, too."

"Wow. Why do you think she took the pictures?"

"I don't know, but I can tell you why she sold them. This is her daughter's _third_ time with this. The cancer just keeps coming back, never fully going into remission. She's only 13."

"So you think she just needed the money?"

Felicity shrugged. "She lives in the Glades. Far away too, probably on the outskirts at the edge of town. She's a single mom and I'm not even sure if she has a job right now; she's always at the hospital with her daughter. They're there a _lot_. I'm sure this money would make a big difference for them."

"Why don't you think Oliver would understand that?" Sara wondered. She had never seen her friend doubt him like this.

"I think Oliver has never had to resort to robbing or extorting people for money. That's usually what he _stops_. I don't think what she did was right, but I think she's just scared. I think she didn't know what else to do and she saw an opportunity and she...she took it."

"That's what you should explain to Oliver. I've seen the way he looks at you, Bug. He would do _anything_ for you. Including robbery or extortion or...well, he's already committed murder for you, you know."

"Don't remind me," she muttered.

"He wants to protect you, to save you. Just like this woman wants to do for her daughter. So I think that's what you should explain to him. He'll understand it if you put it that way."

"And if he doesn't? If he wants to arrow her or get her kicked out of the hospital? I couldn't live with myself if that happened."

She smiled faintly. "Then he's not the man that we know. Then he's not the man that you love."

"I don't-"

"Don't even try that with me. The others may let you get away with that but that's just because they don't know any better. Nope, now that I'm back, things are going to be getting real, okay? Starting with you and Oliver."

"Oh, boy."

"Now, what do you say we get out of here?" Sara squinted at her, as if she was sizing her up. "Burgers?"

"I thought you had a thing with your dad?" Felicity asked even as she was standing up and turning off her monitors, grabbing her nearby jacket.

Sara slipped on her trademark leather coat as she spoke. "Not until later. Don't worry. I think he'd understand, anyways. You're like, his new favorite kid. Behind me, of course," she joked.

"Coming back from the dead trumps cancer every time, huh? Damn."

"What can I say? Life's a bitch."

* * *

She was feeling pretty tired but she didn't want to just go home and wait for Oliver to come back and rant at her, so she agreed to the idea of burgers. It was late though and her tastebuds were pretty much always on the fritz, so she knew that there was nothing at Big Belly that was going to appeal to her. Still, some quality time with Sara was going to be nice.

Or so she had thought.

"I thought I told you that I didn't want to talk about Oliver," she all but whined.

"I'm not talking about Oliver and this crazy photo lady, I'm talking about Oliver and the crazy cancer lady. That's you," Sara unnecessarily clarified.

"_Thanks_."

"I just thought maybe you'd want to talk about it since that seems to be the thing that you seem to actively avoid talking about."

"Oh, so you thought that the one thing I'm going out of my way to not talk about is the one thing that I'd really want to talk about?"

"Yeah, exactly."

Felicity laughed freely at that. "Oh, come on Sara, it's still just Oliver. He's been really great this entire time. I don't want to ruin that by overthinking it."

"If I know anything about that brain of yours, its that as soon as you tell yourself not to think about something, it is all you can think about."

She wasn't entirely in the wrong, but Felicity had spent the last few months steadfastly not thinking about Oliver or what it all meant between the two of them and she wasn't sure she was willing to risk all that just yet.

"Okay, fine, we don't have to talk about you and Oliver and the babies you two want to so desperately make together."

She could feel her eyes rolling in her head.

"Where's your mom?"

_Wow_, Felicity thought dourly. _Out of the frying pan and into the fire_.

"I haven't told her yet."

"Whoa," Sara grabbed a fry from the plate in between the two of them despite Felicity not making a move to touch them. "When are you going to do that?"

"I'm not sure. I was sort of focusing on telling one traumatic person at a time, and you were at the top of that list."

"Well, thank you very much. I guess you can't escape me since I live here now. But you're going to have to tell your mom sooner or later."

"Emphasis on the later."

Felicity was well aware that the time was quickly approaching when she would have to tell her mother about her illness. She had only got this far because everyone was willing to cut her some slack with the knowledge that Sara was coming back or she had that tiny life-threatening infection. She knew that it was only a matter of time until someone pressed the issue and she didn't have a better defense aside from 'it makes me sweat a lot when I think about it.'

"I think maybe sooner has passed and it is later, don't you think?"

She was actually surprised when she had to bite back the bitter response on her tongue - Sara hadn't been there in the 'sooner' phase. It was stupid and it wasn't her fault at all, but Felicity felt for a second that Sara had no right to say what she had. She knew she remained silent, but something must have crossed her face.

"It might not be my place to say anything though."

"No, I mean, you're right. I know I'm going to have to. It's just complicated."

"I'm sure."

"I need to...after I get through this next round of chemo. I only have a few days left before I have to check back in to the hospital," she explained. "It would take her a few days to get some time off and come see me, and I really don't want her first time seeing me to be in the hospital. So maybe….we'll see after this next round."

"Okay." And odds against odds, Sara dropped the subject entirely. Felicity had never known her to be that complacent, but perhaps she sensed her reticence to talk about it. "Is it bad?"

"Is what bad? The shake is good." Vanilla wasn't her favorite normally but it was all she could really stand to think about at the moment. It was _okay_, at best.

"Chemotherapy?"

Sara's voice had gotten small and she wasn't meeting Felicity's eyes, which spoke louder than the question itself. This prompted Felicity to take the time to actually think about the question. No one had ever asked her that, usually because they were privilege to front seat tickets to the horror that occurred within her body at every session. Thea had asked briefly what it was like, but she hadn't had to elaborate on much since the girl was sitting right next to describe it to someone who hadn't seen it or had to endure it...it was an unexpected challenge.

"Yeah," she finally settled on for an initial answer. "It's bad. I try not to - I don't like to think about it after it's over. But I get medicine and stuff to help me through it so sometimes I can sleep through the beginning, or I'm sort of so foggy that I don't remember it. But the rest of them have to see it and it's not pretty. I get super sick, I get like, mouth ulcers or whatever, which by the way, this vanilla shake is making feel so awesome right now, and I don't know - it's like the worst hangover you've ever had for the three days that follow the last bag. Sorry, I mean the last day. Sometimes I forget that you…"

"That I wasn't there in the beginning? It's okay. I feel like I should know this stuff, but I don't and it's just...you've kind of got this life set up without me, and I'm not sure where I fit in."

She wasn't sure if she had ever heard Sara speak so candidly, but the words did strike a chord with her.

"That's kind of my biggest fear."

"...That I don't fit in?"

"No, no," Felicity laughed.

"Good. I mean, I was going to say, very sweet, but maybe you should worry about other things."

"I just mean that I barely recognize my life anymore. And everyone else is making their lives so much about me right now it's just...what happens when this is all over? Not that it's really easy for me to think that far out - I kind of just live in the weeks between chemotherapy right now and don't let myself think too much ahead but...what if I can't fit in afterwards? What if everyone just starts back up their lives, no big deal, and I just...can't?"

"I think...do you want to know what I think?"

"Yes, yes, by all means, yes!" Shut in her own head for so long, she was _desperate_ to hear what other people thought of this.

"I think that this is a huge chapter in your life. And looking at it like it's a detour isn't going to help when it's over. Think about it like...like when Ollie got back. Everyone just wanted him to step back into this role that was still carved out for him, but he couldn't. It's not that easy after you go through something that big, that life changing. Some people are going to want you to go back to the way things were and to pretend that nothing happened, like you weren't just fighting for your life for five- a year, or however long this will take." Felicity ignored her slip up and just nodded, encouraging her to keep speaking. "The people who matter, the people who are important to you, they'll be the ones that understand why you can't just go back. And they'll be the ones that help you find your new role, your new place."

She wasn't sure when it happened, but sure enough, Felicity looked down and saw her hand tightly grasping Sara's. This woman who had been through so much was still willing to be there for her, to help her through things, and that was just _amazing_ to her. Just like with another incredible person in her life who had been through way too much, she was constantly awed with the depth of her compassion and love.

"Thank you," she told her sincerely.

"No problem." She shared a sweet smile before reluctantly pulling back, clapping her hands together. "Okay, so now can we talk about Oliver?"

* * *

**A/N2: Up next - CHATTING. And duh, someone is gonna find out some stuff soon, y'all**


	29. A Family Dinner

**A/N: I know - a day early! But I have a wicked early start tomorrow (4am UGH) and thought I'd get it out of the way now. You should all wish me luck with a 6 hour drive to Atlanta with a huge Great Dane in the backseat. Both of us have a tendency to lose our patience at around hour 5.**

**I hope y'all like this chapter! It was very fun to write and very - idk. I love Dig. And Oliver. And I love Papa Lance. Wanna hug all of them. Enjoy!**

* * *

Felicity wasn't surprised that when Sara dropped her off - complete with a walk through of the apartment because _that_ was necessary ("_Who is going to attack the girl with cancer? Honestly, the criminals of Starling City at least pretend to have some morals. They wouldn't do that."_) - that Oliver was no where to be seen. She was half-convinced he was just hiding in the shadows, waiting for her to fall asleep, but if that was true, he didn't have to wait long. It took the last reserves of her energy to get her makeup off and she barely looked as she slid the wig off and left it on her nearby dresser. She fell into a deep, easy sleep so quickly she wasn't even sure if she pulled the blankets up around her.

She slept well into the next morning and then some, disappointed yet not when she found Dig at her kitchen table around 11 a.m.

"Courtesy of Detective Lance," he told her, nudging a familiar brown bag holding what she knew to be her cherished muffin in it.

"Damn, I missed another one," she said around her mouthful. It was Wednesday morning, and she only had two more days before she checked in to the hospital for her usual pre-chemo tests and she had missed the last two coffee dates with Lance, which hurt particularly hard because she was allowed out of the apartment for them. This was going to be the last one before she checked in on Friday and she hadn't gotten to go to the shop with him once.

"He actually wanted me to tell you that he wants to go out to eat with you tonight."

"Are you taking my messages for me, Dig? Because you know, I gotta tell you, I'm starting to see the allure to the whole 'EA business' thing now."

"Laugh it up, Chuckles. He left this for you." He handed over a folded piece of legal pad paper and she read Lance's haphazard scrawl within.

"Reading my mail now?" She half-heartedly accused.

"I'm curious like a cat."

"Cats _die_ of curiosity, I'll remind you." Her words sent her back in time to her not-so-pleasant conversation with Laurel two weeks prior, which brought her to the message in hand. "He wants to take me out to eat with Sara and Laurel."

Dig couldn't even hide his smile behind his mug. "I will be _very_ sad to be missing that."

"Liar," she grumbled. She didn't know how to feel about it. On the one hand, she thought a dinner with Sara and Detective Lance sounded great. As for the Laurel aspect, well, she could probably do without that. She knew that the Detective had been making good headway with his eldest ever since their awkward talk, but he was always a bit quiet in regards to it. She wasn't sure if that was to spare her feelings or his.

"You gonna go?"

She shrugged. "It'll be good to get out of the house before I get locked up in Starling General again. Not to mention a night away from our favorite vigilante might be good for me."

"Don't let Sara hear you talking like that. Things not too good on the Oliver-front?"

She wasn't sure if this was crossing the territory into 'emotional minefield' but she took the plunge. "I'm sure he told you what I found out last night. About the pictures of me."

"It might have come up this morning over a particularly brutal sparring match, which I have yet to thank you for." He held up his left forearm and gestured to a large, definite bruise that was forming there. "My gratitude."

"Yikes. Sorry. Except not really because I actually have very little control over Oliver's emotions and subsequent inability to control them."

"It's cute that you think that. The man was on the warpath this morning. I said I'd come hang out with you mostly so I didn't have to get my ass handed to me again."

"Gee, thanks."

"You really don't want him going after this woman?"

She let out a huge sigh, sinking into the chair across from him at the table.

"I don't know. I don't think what she did was right, but I don't think we should...vilify her. She made a mistake. It happens."

"In case you haven't noticed, people who make mistakes regarding you aren't really looked upon favorably by Oliver. He's just worried."

"Just like Stephanie is," she pointed out. "For _her_ daughter. And she needed the money. I don't know what to do, Dig. Do I yell at her and risk making her angrier so that she releases more information? Or do I do nothing and just let her think she got away with it?"

"I think first step is involving Oliver. You know he's going to want to be in this anyway, and you going off and talking to her on your own is just a recipe for trouble. Don't look at me like that, you know it's true."

"What would you do?"

He cocked his eyebrow at her.

"Right. Not really relevant and also you would never get yourself in this situation."

"Not entirely sure you could call 'getting cancer' some sort of situation that you got yourself into. This isn't an awkward conversation you can't get out of at a fundraiser."

"Tell me about it. I still get emails from that Merlyn Global board member asking me to join some sort of grassroots campaign for chicken farms. I think it's some sort of play on words, but I have no idea what it is. I just don't get it."

"You two will be fine, just like you always are. And don't respond to those e-mails. That guy is seriously weird." Dig stood up and made his way to the couch. "Since you suddenly have fancy dinner plans and I can tell you're still feeling a bit out of it, what do you say we binge watch some horrible TV that Oliver would hate?"

"I say you're a good man, John Diggle. One of the best, I'd presume."

"Yeah, yeah. That's what they tell me."

* * *

Oliver had been scarce all day, only sending curt text responses to Felicity when she told him that she was going to be going out to dinner with the Lances that night, and therefore unable to go to the lair. She knew that she could use a break though, especially since the last time she had been down there, she had discovered news that had gotten her into a fight with Oliver.

Dinner was an early affair, which she knew was in deference to her waning energy levels, but she felt surprisingly good as she got ready. The only problem she ran into was her wardrobe, unfortunately.

Having always been on the slender side, Felicity had very few things that didn't fit her frame perfectly. With every pound she lost, be it from her waning appetite or her chemo-induced sickness, her clothing selection got slimmer and slimmer. She officially had no jeans she could wear without the assistance of a belt and even that was pushing it at times, and she found herself disappointed with the way dresses simply hung off of her bones now. She didn't look particularly frail (_yet_, she reminded herself), but her jutting clavicle and pronounced hips weren't what she was used to. They weren't what she wanted to see in the mirror.

She was going to have to buy some new things soon, if only because her supply of yoga pants and leggings was woefully small, and they were her preferred clothes of choice as of late. It was getting colder out with every day, not that she left her house all that often, but her collection of Oliver's basketball shorts weren't going to be feasible for that much longer.

It took her thirty minutes to find a lavender, long sleeved sweater dress that had a big cowl neck that she could burrow into if necessary. It was bulky enough that she didn't think her small stature was that noticeable within it, and if she was honest with herself, the bulk was probably why she hadn't immediately thought of it. She had (whether consciously or subconsciously, she'd never admit) taken to wearing form-fitting clothes ever since she started working with Oliver closely. It was actually probably coincidental. Definitely a coincidence.

She set to work on doing her makeup, which was more of a rigorous routine than it had been BC. She had to do essentially the opposite of contouring, trying to flesh out her face and make her look less harsh than her cheekbones wanted her to seem at that moment. That, plus adding a lot of color to her now-normal paleness, ate away at the time until she heard the door to her apartment open and she knew it had to be Sara, picking her up.

"Be there in a minute!" She called out as she slid her wig cap on, grimacing at the tiny hairs that flew off her head at the abrupt motion. She was going to be bald sooner or later, she knew, but that didn't make every hair that fell out less of a tragedy to her. She adjusted the wig carefully, making the slight curl at the end fall around her shoulders _just_ _right_ before slipping on the boots over the grey tights she had chosen.

She studied herself in the mirror. It wasn't perfect, but it would do. Not too fancy, because of course they were just going to a local steakhouse with Detective Lance, but she still thought she looked nice. Save for a close inspection, she actually looked remarkably like the old Felicity. She forced her eyes to skip over the parts of herself that she didn't want to focus on and let out a breath. She could do this.

"Hey, sorry, I know I'm running late-" She was shoving her necessities into a smaller purse as she walked down the hall, not looking where she was going until a familiar pair of shoes filled her vision. "Oliver?"

He gave her a barely-there smile but it crinkled his eyes and that was all she cared about.

"You look amazing," he told her as he took a step back and studied her outfit. It was rare she put this much effort into her appearance, especially if she was just going to the lair. The prospect of being surrounded by more people than her immediate group of friends was daunting though, so she had gone the extra mile.

"Thanks. You don't think it's uh, like a bit too much or anything? I know it's just dinner with the Lances but they're kind of like the most beautiful family in Starling, not that you and Thea aren't gorgeous too because you are, not that I was calling you _gorgeous_, well, okay, I kind of was, but it's not like that's news to you because I know for a fact you are very aware of how good looking you are and did you answer my question or have I just been talking this entire time?"

"You will be the most beautiful woman at that restaurant, I have no doubt." His voice was sincere as he continued to study her and she felt distinctly like she was on display for him. It was interesting but not necessarily uncomfortable.

She felt herself blush at that, her body still not used to Oliver's compliments (and oh how she hoped it never would be) and she smiled at him a big, broad grin. Despite their brief argument, she was still happy to see him. She didn't think that would ever change.

"Well, thank you. Maybe that'll get me a free glass of house red tonight," she kidded.

"Are you sure-"

She stuck her tongue out, allowing him to see it, in response to the question she knew he was going to ask. Any mouth sores or ulcers she had had previously were gone.

"Perfectly fine. And besides, I think I deserve a glass of wine to get through this dinner."

"It won't be that bad."

"My history of any and all interactions with Laurel Lance beg to differ with your assumption."

"You don't have to go, you know. Especially if you're just going to get some space from me."

"Dig has a big mouth," she muttered. "That's not what this is. It'll be nice to get out of the house and do something different. But you and I…"

"Should talk," he finished for her. "And we will. I'll be here when you get back. And if it's too late then we can always talk tomorrow."

"I shouldn't be that late - oh. You mean if I'm too tired."

"I was trying to be nice about it." He leaned forward as he told her that, like it was some sort of secret between the two of them. Once again she couldn't control her body's reaction to him, and she felt her nerves rapidly firing, suddenly very, _very _aware of just how close his face was to her's.

Before she could as so much breathe (which, granted, took a few long moments), the door to the apartment was swinging open again. Oliver, ready as ever, swiftly stepped in front of her, shielding her entirely before relaxing upon the realization that it was just Sara.

"You ready, Bug?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

"Well, I kind of like how awkward this is," Felicity said brazenly after about fifteen of the most cringe-worthy moments of her life, sitting at a round table at Starling Steakhouse across from Laurel and Detective Lance, with Sara to her left. The detective smirked and choked out a laugh, looking down at his club soda. "What? I do. At least we're not pretending to have any weird small talk, right? I mean, instead we're just sitting in silence. It's kind of nice."

Sara laughed a bit at that while Laurel looked just as awkward as she had in the beginning.

"She's right, dad." Laurel finally found her voice. "Why did you invite us all out? I mean, surely you see all of us pretty frequently, right?"

"I wanted a night out with my girls, okay? And I think this is a good time for us to get to know each other. It's not often that I get all three of you around and able to go out at the same time."

"It's so weird to hear you refer to Felicity as 'your girl,'" Laurel idly commented, swirling her cosmo.

"He means it in a purely platonic way. Paternal, even. Which you knew because we told you so...great. Good."

"I think it's nice," Sara interjected, alleviating the embarrassment that was coursing Felicity's veins. "He's right, we don't get to do this too often."

"Are you gonna be in town for long?" Detective Lance jumped at the chance to start a conversation.

"Probably. I mean, I think so at least. It can change sometimes, but I'll tell them I need to finish some stuff up here. Stick with Felicity."

"Well, ah, maybe next time your girlfriend can stay and we can do this with everyone." He had no problem at all with his daughter's choices in partners but sometimes he stumbled on the word 'girlfriend' due to the unfamiliarity of it all. Sara appreciated it nonetheless and smiled sweetly at him.

"Maybe. I'll see."

"Maybe some of us can finally meet her," Laurel commented.

"Oh, I met her," Felicity piped up. "She scared me. But I think that's a good thing considering what she - never mind. I mean, everyone kind of scares me, anyway. Sara scared me when I first met her. You kind of still scare me. I mean. Not that you _scare_ me, scare me. I just mean that I- should stop talking. Now."

"I think she's making this the first fun family dinner in a while," Sara told her father and sister.

"Your own family dinners must have been certainly been interesting."

Felicity flushed under Laurel's gaze but decided to be honest anyway. "We didn't really do family dinners. I mean, it was just me and my mom so - yeah. Not a lot of steak dinners growing up."

"Is that why you've latched on to our dad?"

"_Laurel_!"

"What? I was just wondering!"

"I thought you were over this? I thought you had - I just, I don't know. That's over the line though, and you know it." Detective Lance got up abruptly and ran a hand over his shaved head. "I need to - just give me a second. I need some air."

He left the table and headed to the door, leaving the three women in a silence that was more awkward than before, if that was possible.

"I'm sorry," Laurel eventually spoke, sounding sincere. "I didn't mean it like that."

Sara coughed loudly and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, so maybe I did mean it like that, but it's just - this whole new daughter thing he's got going on, it's weird to me. I don't really know how to act about it."

"I get that it must be strange, but it's - it's nothing _bad_."

"He likes taking care of her, Laurel. It gives him some sort of purpose and it's not like you and I let him even bring us soup when we're sick. He likes this, so we should let him have it."

"I know, yeah, you're right. I'll try. I'm sorry, Felicity."

"It's okay. I'm never going to take your guys' places or anything though, I hope you know that. I don't _want_ to. But it is kind of nice having someone who isn't Oliver hold my hair back when I'm sick. So I'm going to go get him and -"

"Oh, he'll be back in a few minutes. He used to always get up and go outside when Sara and I would get into fights at dinner when we were younger."

Sara nodded in confirmation. "Just needs a few gulps of air or something and he comes back a new man."

"Do you guys mind if I still…?" She wasn't sure if she was supposed to wait with them in an effort to be 'one of the daughters,' but her gut was telling her to go to the detective. They nodded for her to leave and she slipped out of her chair and traced his footsteps to the door.

She found him outside, kicking his boot against the sidewalk, silently cursing his inability to create sons.

"Are you okay?"

"What - what are you doing out here? It's freezing, you need to get back inside!"

"It's like 50 degrees out, and I just - I wanted to see if you were okay. They said that you'd come back soon, but…"

He huffed. "Yeah, well, I guess I'm a little predictable. But still, you should get back inside."

"Are you okay or not?"

"I'm _fine_. I'm sorry about what Laurel said in there-"

"She already apologized. And I think she half-meant it, too." She smiled at him, trying to elevate his mood. "It's okay, Detective."

"Can't even protect you from one of my daughters," he muttered forlornly.

"I don't think I really need protecting from Laurel. Maybe desensitizing, in which case, you're doing a pretty good job at that. _I'm kidding_!" She assured him at his affronted look. "She's just trying to get used to things. She had to share her childhood with Sara, and then with Sara's ghost, and now with Sara again _plus_ a girl she doesn't know from anyone. Who has cancer. Not even one of those cute diseases."

He cocked his eyebrow at her.

"What's a 'cute' disease?"

"I don't know, maybe diabetes? There's a lot of puns I could make about being really sweet, but I've been told my sense of humor kind of is terrible…"

"It's kind of terrible," he agreed. "You sure you don't want me to cancel this whole thing? We can go grab some of that bunny food you're fond of down the street or something. Or those soups you've been eating for a few weeks."

"I'm fine, I promise. I think she got it out of her system. And if not, well, I'll just have to keep drinking wine. Sara drove, promise."

"I don't know what I'm going to do with the three of you," he muttered but his voice was much lighter now. He slung an arm around her shoulders and guided her back inside, to the table where the two biological Lance daughters were sitting across from each other in a much easier silence than previously.

"We all good now?" He directed his question at the table, but it was mostly meant for Laurel, who nodded resolutely. "Good. I'm hungry. I need this steak."

"Are you sure you're supposed to be eating an 18 ounce Porterhouse?" Laurel questioned with a sparkle in her eye that Felicity took note of.

"Yeah, maybe you should have a salad," Sara agreed.

"I could grab the waiter, we can switch it right now." Felicity raised her hand in a mock-attempt to flag down a member of the wait staff.

"Don't you da- oh, I get it. Very funny. This is funny to you three, isn't it? Great, just what I need. Three against one."

"You're the one who wanted this dinner," Felicity teased.

"Yeah," he looked around the table at the three young women surrounding him, all eyes sparkling and smiles playing across faces. "I am."

* * *

**A/N2: Wasn't going to be just a flip switched with Laurel, but she is trying, which I think is a good thing. Eeeeveryone is trying. It is great.**

**Up next - a long overdue conversation and some dessert for breakfast.**


	30. Bracelets

**A/N: Hope everyone had a wonderful 4th! I can't believe it's already July! Whoa.**

**I clearly am on vacation mode and have been for a while because I'm not sure why I was so convinced that I was going to be late posting last week when I was leaving on a WEDNESDAY not a THURSDAY. And then I woke up today so convinced it was Sunday. I have no idea what is happening ever. My apologies.**

**I hope everyone likes this new chapter!**

* * *

Damn Oliver and his innate ability to somehow just _know_ how Felicity was feeling, because sure enough, she got home later than expected after dinner and was way too exhausted to have an actual conversation with the man. She might have mumbled a few things to him but all she remembered was him kissing her forehead and leaving a bottle of water on her nightstand. She hoped she hadn't embarrassed herself too much. (Long gone were the days when she wished to not embarrass herself at all.)

So when she woke up the next morning, her last day before checking in to the hospital before chemo round four, she was determined to have this talk with Oliver.

"Are you playing without me?" She tried to keep the hurt out of her voice when she spotted Oliver on her couch, XBox controller in hand. He had bought the entire system, yes, but playing together was _their_ thing. She'd occasionally play with Roy, but she'd always replay the levels with Oliver, not wanting him to miss out on any of the storyline.

"No!" He sat up instantly, before looking down at the controller in his hand. "I mean, yeah. I am playing, but not our game."

She stepped out of the hall and looked at the TV, surprised to see a somewhat gruesome depiction of violence on it. He looked to be killing aliens of some kind.

"What is this?"

"It's another game, I didn't think you'd like it. I usually just play it when you're sleeping."

For some reason, the idea of him playing video games on her couch, waiting for her to wake up, struck her as so incredibly intimate and domestic. It was stupid, she knew, since they shared just about everything else in their lives, including meals and cleaning and all sorts of other, much more homey activities, but it was just...sweet, she decided. It was sweet. And the way he looked like she had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar was even sweeter.

"I think you're right about that," she agreed, drawing a face at the way the character on the screen died. He instantly turned it off, looking up at her expectantly.

"Breakfast?"

She shrugged. She didn't really feel like eating, but knew she had to. It was just getting harder for her to figure out what anything tasted like. Her tastebuds were seriously out of whack due to chemotherapy.

"I've got a few options, you can see which one appeals to you," he told her, standing and guiding her to the table. "We can talk while I get them ready."

"Okay." She watched him for a few minutes moving around her kitchen with practiced grace. "I didn't really change my mind on what I thought we should do about Stephanie…"

"Do you think you can explain it to me this time at least?" He didn't look at her, instead focusing on chopping the fruit in front of him, but his voice was tight. She nodded at his back before realizing he couldn't see her.

"I don't think she meant it...badly. I think she just wanted the money to help offset some of the costs of Casey's treatments. I looked into her financials, which, by the way, I feel really weird about, even though it was kind of for a case, but let's not talk about that. Anyway, she is in some serious debt, Oliver. I can't even...I don't want to know how much money you must be dumping into Starling General for me. My insurance is good, but it can't be _that_ good."

"We aren't talking about your insurance or my bank account, although I'd be interested to know if you have the same moral qualms when it comes to looking into all of my financials instead of just balancing my checkbook," he teased over his shoulder.

He walked to the table and placed three dishes in front of her: a bowl of cinnamon oatmeal, a plate of fresh-cut fruit, and a carrot cake cupcake. She cocked her eyebrow (okay, she tried very hard to at least) at the last option, but he just gave her a small shrug. "It's a vegetable."

She popped a piece of watermelon in her mouth. "Do I not get utensils?"

"Oh, that reminds me!" He quickly walked to the counter, returning with a fork, spoon, and a knife he brandished proudly. "Plastic cutlery."

"...You think I'm a danger to myself or others?"

"I read that it should help with the metallic taste in your mouth that keeps you from enjoying certain foods. I bought like, five boxes of them. We can get more."

She shook her head at him, taking the spoon gently, scooping up some oatmeal before bringing it to her mouth. "Wow," she murmured after swallowing. "It does make a difference. That's great, Oliver!"

He looked like he had just won first place in the science fair. Or, well, maybe not a science fair for him, she noted. First place in the vigilante contest was a more apt simile.

"She needed the money," she repeated around bites as she had a little bit of everything in front of her, wanting to try out the effects of the silverware on all different foods and tastes. "I don't want her to get in trouble. I don't want Casey to have to suffer because of her mom's bad decision. You know what that's like, remember?"

"I do. And fine. We won't do anything. But I don't want you talking to her anymore."

"You're going to tell me who I can and can't talk to now?" She worked hard to keep her voice steady, determined not to overreact until he clarified.

He sighed heavily, telling Felicity that yes, that was exactly what he had intended to do but had now realized it wasn't the best move.

"How about you just are careful with what you say around her? Is that a compromise we can make?"

"I suppose that is amenable."

More than amenable, if she was being honest. She didn't really have any desire to have more interactions with the woman who had sold her out to the nearest media outlet, despite how good her reasoning might have been. She just bristled at the idea of _anyone_ telling her what to do, especially when so much of her life was out of her control at that moment. She could make her own decisions about who to talk to, and Stephanie Cassidy was not on her Christmas card list. Or Hanukkah card, as it was. Maybe Chrismukkah, since her and Oliver were presumably going to be spending that holiday together. That idea made her tingle and feel things that she didn't want to focus on, so she pushed it out of her mind.

"So, what do you want to do today?"

Felicity shrugged. "I thought I'd see Trey by now since he was supposed to get out of the hospital a few days after me, but I guess he's probably busy with his other friends. His teenage friends. Oh no, am I creepy? Am I totally that creepy lady who the kids are nice to but only hang out with out of pity?"

He laughed at her insane insecurities. "You're not creepy. But I'm sure you're right and he's just catching up with kids his own age. Maybe you'll see him before you check out of the hospital, if you think he's just a few days off on your schedules."

"Yeah, maybe. We'll see. I _really_ don't want to be creepy. What are you up to today?"

"I'm free. Had a video conference meeting with our Danish subsidiaries this morning at six, but now my day is open."

She grimaced at the idea of being awake that early (although that had, once upon a time, been considered a late start for her) and instead chose to focus on the fact that she had a full day with Oliver available to her, and she could choose whatever she wanted to do.

"How about mini-golf?"

Oliver gulped. Of all the god forsaken activities she had to choose, why miniature golf had to be one of her favorite things to do, he didn't know.

"I'm kidding, Oliver. But you should totally see your face right now."

He couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped him. "You're cruel."

"You love it."

They froze. Felicity opened her mouth four times in an attempt to say something - anything, hell, a ramble about animal cruelty would have been preferable at that moment, but nothing came out. Oliver's mouth stayed firmly shut, with the only outward visible sign that he had even heard her being the slight widening of his eyes. What was he supposed to do? Refute her? That wasn't really an option, even if the words _hadn't_ been true.

"I'm going to go shower. And change. And think about what we can do today. And you should do that too. Not shower! Because I will be in there and I'll be all naked and you shouldn't...I mean-"

"Felicity!" Oliver barked at her.

"Bye."

* * *

The rest of the day passed way too quickly for Felicity's liking, but that was probably in part due to how great it was. 'Time flies when you're having fun and dreading chemotherapy,' wasn't that the phrase? Oliver had made a decision on their plans whilst she showered (and attempted to wash away the memory of her actually mentioning being naked to Oliver Queen) and when she came out, ready for the day, he instantly whisked her away. He had made reservations at a winery just outside of town and they were going to spend their day drinking wine and not thinking about cancer. The universe seemed to be smiling down on them too, with the weather unseasonably warm and sunny. It was one of the best days she had _ever_ had, BC or after.

But, alas, all good things must come to an end and sooner than she knew it, she was sitting in the back of Dig's car with Oliver, resting her head on his shoulder as they drove to the hospital.

Oliver led her instead to admissions as Dig parked, watching patiently as she had three bracelets secured around her wrist - one for admissions, another for chemotherapy, and the last for her lumbar puncture and bone marrow biopsy procedure that day.

Before they could head upstairs, Oliver found himself cornered by an administrator, insisting they had new forms for him to sign.

"You go ahead," Felicity waved him along. "I'm going to go check in at pediatrics, anyway."

"Felic-"

"I'll take Marcus," she promised, gesturing to the young security guard that was dutifully waiting to escort them to her room upstairs. "And I won't be long. Just want to see who's there is all."

"Okay." He turned to Marcus, his eyes instantly hardening. "Watch her. And Felicity - remember what we compromised on."

"Yes sir, captain sir!" She saluted him which earned her an eye roll before he walked purposefully away, eager to sign everything as quick as possible.

"You know, you don't _really _have to - "

"Nice try." Marcus closed the door to the elevators, pressing the button for the pediatric oncology floor.

The doors opened with a _ding!_ and Felicity strolled out of the elevator, smiling at the nurses she recognized, greeting them all with a jaunty hello. These nurses were the best of the best, in her humble opinion. Being a nurse was an amazing profession that she respected immensely and knew that she couldn't do - especially not on that ward. Seeing the sick kids was hard enough without being the one to administer the medicine.

She took a look at the chalkboard they kept up at the front desk, a wrinkle appearing in her forehead as she took in the names.

"Everything alright, Felicity?"

"Yeah, it's just...hm." She saw Trey's name on the board, and more than that, she saw that he was in an HDU room - High Dependency Unit. This was reserved for patients that needed more care than general wards, but not as extreme as the ICU. She had never heard of good things coming from that.

She made her way down the hall, ticking off the room numbers as she got closer to where she knew Trey was. If not for her recent hospital celebrity status or the three bracelets around her wrist, she knew that she would have been stopped, but instead she just got a few curious looks (which was nothing compared to the stares that Marcus was getting.)

"Wait here," she told him outside of Trey's room. "Or, you know, you could always just go upstairs…"

"Are you _trying_ to get me fired?" He joked, but still did as she said, resuming his typical sentry stance outside the doors.

She knocked lightly before letting herself in, unsurprised to see Ava, Trey's mom sitting on the bed with Trey. She had to control herself to not let out the response that she wanted to - the kid didn't look great. His skin was somehow pale and ashy beneath his natural, dark tone, and he had an oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose.

"Knock knock." She kept her voice low as she pushed the door open, slipping inside. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Oh, Felicity! It's so good to see you!" Ava looked up, her face showing no signs of deception - she was genuinely happy for the younger woman's presence. "Are you checking in?"

"Yup." She held up her wrist, the bracelets as her proof.

Sensing her wariness, Trey pulled off the oxygen mask, grinning at her. "Don't tell me you came here to tell me you built a computer without me. Man, a kid gets _one_ cough, and suddenly everyone forgets about him!"

"Nope, you're not getting out of it that easily. You promised flair, I'm going to need to see some flair." She made her way across the room, feeling better now that Trey was clearly still the same kid she had first met.

"I'm going to go run and grab some coffee actually, would you mind sitting with him for a few minutes?" Ava asked, and Felicity could see just how truly tired the woman was. Dark circles accentuated her glassy eyes and the skin around her mouth was pinched too tight.

"Yeah, of course. Sure."

"I don't need a babysitter, but you know - parents just don't understand," Trey kidded once they were alone.

"What's with the special room? You annoying your other roommate?"

"Oh please, Cedric is _lucky_ to have a roommate as cool as me. Nah, you know how it is. You get a little wheezy and everyone starts to freak out.

She could certainly relate to that, since anytime she had so much as a frog in her throat, everyone seemed to lean in and watch her for any other underlying symptoms, but still - it seemed like there was something more to Trey's case. She had never had to have an _oxygen mask_ when she felt a 'little wheezy.'

"You sure that's all it is?" She watched as his eyes darted away and he seemed to shut in on himself. He didn't want to talk about it and she wasn't going to force him. "I just mean, I was serious about before. You're not getting out of building a computer with me."

Sensing that she wasn't fishing for information anymore, he loosened up considerably again.

"Yeah, Homegirl, I'm sure. Ain't nothing stopping me from that."

"'Ain't nothing' is a double negative, and it's an incorrect one at that," she pointed out. "I know you know how to speak correctly, so why you refuse to do so for me is just incomprehensible."

"Riling you up is some of the best entertainment in this place. Speaking of, where's your G-man? Don't tell me you're wandering around here solo?"

"He's outside the door, I'll have you know. And speaking of entertainment - oh, wait one second, my _G-man_ has my bag." She ran to the door, grabbing the bag from Marcus before digging through it. "I thought I might see you in here, granted, in a week or so, but I brought something for you...ah ha!"

She pulled out a large, outdated laptop.

"Technology from the 80s. Sweet."

"It's from five years ago, smartass, and the motherboard is dead. _This_," she pulled out a box very carefully from the duffle, "is a new motherboard."

"Oh shit," Trey murmured, looking through the clear plastic window on the top of the box. "This doesn't look like one that I've seen before - and I've taken a _lot_ of things apart. I mean, more than just the stuff you gave me."

"It's custom."

"You _made_ it?"

"No, I didn't make it! Do I look like I had the time and years it would take to put together a motherboard like this successfully? Don't answer that. No, it's from Intel, but it's built to some pretty insightful specifics, if you ask me. QC has some contracts with Intel and this may or may not have been a misappropriation of resources, but it's just a prototype that we were thinking of using for new company laptops."

"Ah, I see what this is. You're just using me to do your dirty work, aren't you? You don't wanna waste your time taking apart laptops, I see how it is." Contrary to his sarcastic words, his face was lit up at the prospect of having a project, and such a great one at that.

"It's true. Your fingers are smaller."

Ava walked in a minute later, witnessing the pair holding their hands together and arguing about whose fingers were taller than the other's.

"Your palm isn't even lined up with mine, Trey! You aren't even trying!"

"Can hear you two down the hall," Ava chided with a smile on her face. "Gonna get us kicked out of the ward!"

"I'm sorry," Felicity laughed.

"Yeah, sorry that she's got tiny little elf hands," Trey shot back. Felicity pointed at him threatening, but he just squinted. "Is that your pinky? I can't tell."

"Give the woman a break, Trey. Felicity, I think your...bodyguard wanted a word with you as well."

"Oh, Christ, Oliver's probably freaking out." Trey started making smooching sounds, but Felicity silenced them by reaching over and putting his oxygen mask back on his face. "Are you 12 or 17?" He stuck his tongue out, visible through the clear mask. "I rest my case."

She stood slowly, reluctant both to leave Trey and to start her own hospital stay.

"I should get going. You better make progress with that laptop Trey, I don't care what size your hands are!"

She bid them both goodbye, instantly handing over the duffel to Marcus as she left the room.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. Is he mad?"

"I've only gotten four texts. If it were five, I'd be worried." A second later, his phone chimed. "Maybe we should hurry."

* * *

**A/N2: Don't worry too much about Trey. Kid's resilient.**

**If you are craving some Olicity (which I hope you are because WHY WOULDN'T YOU?) the next chapter is going to be on For Darker Days, and it is a look into their nice little day trip before chemo. And it is fluffy as all hell, because sometimes you need that.**


	31. Selective Hearing

**A/N: Okay, so we all got a nice reprieve with the last chapter of For Darker Days, but as with everything - all good things come to an end, and chemo is certainly the thing that is most likely to put an end to any good times/thoughts/feelings. I believe the chapter after this is ANOTHER For Darker Days, but then we won't have any of those for a while. **

**Read, enjoy/don't kill me. ;-***

* * *

"Hey there. It's nice seeing you when I wake up."

Felicity had just woke up from a nap; the anesthesia from the morning's procedures had worn off for the most part, but had a tendency to leave her groggy for the rest of the day. She had carefully turned on her back after her initial consciousness, hating sleeping on her stomach since it pressed uncomfortably on her implanted port, and the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Sara Lance, sitting in Oliver's lounge chair.

She wasn't even sure when he had switched it out - it had to have been back when she was first recovering from her splenectomy, but it was definitely a change for the better since she had yet to convince him to use the bed that still lay folded up in the corner, forgotten. It was a cushy recliner on wheels that allowed him to lay back almost fully to sleep in. It trumped any hospital standard chair by a lot.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty."

"You're sitting in Oliver's chair."

"Oh." Sara instantly stood, looking around for another option.

"No, no, it's fine, sit, sit. I'm still out of it is all." She hadn't meant for her to feel like she couldn't, she just...she said the first thing that came to her half-asleep mind. Which was that that particular chair, always beside her bed, was Oliver's. "Where is he?"

"He went to spar with Dig a while ago, but they should be back soon with dinner."

"Mmm, okay. Yay." She hadn't eaten when she woke up earlier that afternoon and food was definitely welcomed at that point. "I meant what I said. It's nice having you back. Sorry you couldn't make it yesterday. Oliver told me you had other plans."

"Oh, that. Yeah. I'm sorry too. It sounded like it was fun."

"_So_ fun. But Oliver doesn't realize how much it's going to cost him. I want like, a bottle from there for every occasion from now on."

"Heard you two were pretty cozy there too…"

"You know, everyone there was kind of a blabbermouth, so I don't even know who to accuse of telling you. But yeah. It was nice. It was like I didn't have cancer for a day. And now it's back to normal."

"I heard there was hand holding, but I'll never give up my sources. And besides, who says that can't be your new normal? You and Oliver, I mean."

She groaned, knowing that this was where the conversation was going to go.

"Because tomorrow afternoon I start my fourth round of chemo and he's going to be rubbing my back as I yak up my insides violently, probably. If I'm lucky I won't get sick, but he'll still have to deal with everything else."

"What everything else?" Sara didn't want to dredge up any bad memories, she was just curious.

"Um, well, I sometimes get mouth sores. And I'm super sensitive to light. And I just feel like I have the world's worst migraines, plus I'm like, cranky times a million. I can't be any fun to be around, but he stays with me the first two days, doesn't even go to the office or the lair. Usually tries to make it to day three or four, if he can."

"He's a good guy, Felicity. I think if you let him, he could make you happy."

"He _does_ make me happy. I just...I'm not going to let him get involved with someone who has cancer. Even if we hold hands or...whatever, its different. It just wouldn't be fair to him. And not in a 'Fault in Our Stars' kind of way - I don't know, Roy made me watch it - but in a...he's the Arrow kind of way. He's _Oliver Queen_ kind of way. It's just...different."

"Well, I think his feelings for you aren't going to change just because you choose to keep him at arm's length..._but_ I'm willing to let it go for now - again - because you're glaring at me."

"Thank you."

"You know, before I...before I came back, where I was...there was a woman with cancer."

"No way. Really?" Sara was pretty hush hush about her time with the League of Assassins, and if Felicity was honest, she didn't really push all that hard to get her to open up about it. Seemed pretty gruesome and she figured that if there was a reason Sara was keeping that all buried, then it was a good one.

"It was different, obviously. I don't even know what she had and we don't - we didn't use the same medicines that you're having. She was treated more holistically."

"So how did you even know she had cancer?"

"We did have doctors, Bug," she laughed. "We weren't completely secluded. We knew."

"So no chemotherapy?"

"No, we didn't have to watch her suffer through this."

"Thank goodness. I mean, not that it's not - I'm happy I'm getting treated it's just...sometimes I wonder what's harder: me enduring the treatment, or everyone else who has to watch me."

"Well, I wish we had tried harder for her. She died a few months into our own treatments," she elaborated, succinctly making Felicity regret all words that had just come out of her mouth.

"Not that chemotherapy doesn't have its benefits," she rushed to correct herself, but Sara just chuckled.

"I know what you meant, Bug. And I'll gladly watch anything that you have to go through to get yourself better from this."

"Gee, thanks."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, that you're excited to see me in pain. No, I get it, its cool. You couldn't get your fix from watching me die on the treadmill, so you're trying to get it in now. Fine. It's fine."

"Such a little shit." She stood up and made to leave.

"Wait, no, where are you going? I was kidding!"

"Ollie and Dig are back, Bug. I'm just getting things set up." Sure enough, she started clearing off the small table and just as she was pushing up the small tray table that extended from the side of Felicity's bed and propped up in front of her, Oliver and Dig walked into the room.

"No way did you know that. Did you time that? Did you have a GPS tracker installed on Oliver? Wait, no, is he wearing his boot?"

"She heard the elevator and took a guess, if I had to assume." Oliver walked over to her, placing a takeout container on the now-set-up table in front of her, taking care to raise the bed slowly so that she didn't jostle her spine too much and risk setting off a clot headache.

She could imagine a different scenario in a different world where Oliver said the same thing but then leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her mouth. A world where he was her boyfriend instead of just her employer and friend, a world where they took care of each other instead of this one way street they seemed set upon. She had told Sara that they were _different_, she just hadn't been lucky enough to have meant it in that way.

* * *

"Please be quiet," Felicity gritted out. She was seldomly used to having multiple people with her while she was undergoing chemo, and right now there were just too many to be of any use to her. She knew she was irritable and miserable and cranky but the sound of their conversation, which they had been trying to keep to a whisper and had failed, was grating on her head.

It silenced abruptly at her words and she didn't have to open her eyes to see the guilt that she knew would be splashed all over their faces. It was a full house today, on her second day of treatment, with Detective Lance, Sara, Oliver, Dig, _and_ Roy there in the room with her. The worst part about her frustration with their presence was that she wasn't entirely sure what about it was bothering her so much.

Yes, the noise was getting a little bit loud, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. If she was being honest with herself - something she found she rarely practiced these days - she was more frustrated with the fact that for the first time since this all began, she felt like they were there for each other more than they were for her. Oliver wasn't even next to her currently, his chair had rolled over to the table where everyone else was sitting. He had done so initially just to comment on the topic they were discussing and not have to yell his thoughts across the room, but he had stayed when they engaged him more and had yet to return to her side, at least an hour later. She knew she was being childish, but that simple act alone hurt.

All she had ever wanted was for all the important people in her life to get along and spend time together and now that they were, she was getting all mad about it. She was ridiculous and she knew it.

She heard Oliver's chair's wheels sliding towards her and she felt the air around her change as his presence got closer.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Do you need anything?"

Again, her eyes being open weren't necessary to know that he felt bad about forgetting her or whatever it was that had happened for that hour, but she didn't feel the need to help him out.

"No." Her eyes opened at that. "Wait, yes."

"What can I get you?" He looked relieved that he was about to be able to actually help.

"I have earplugs in my nightstand. Can you get me them? Then you can go back to your conversation."

"Felic-"

"Please? Now?"

She had to work to keep the hurt out of her voice, trying to instead remain clinical and detached. Yeah, she'd probably feel the shame of the impetuousness of her actions later, but right then and now, all she wanted was to not have to deal with any of that. She didn't want to think about the look on Oliver's face or the fact that everyone was definitely listening to her being a bitch to him, she just wanted to zone out and feel miserable by herself, drowning in the self pity that always threatened to take over. Looked like it was finally getting its wish.

She held her hand out for the earplugs, her eyes shut tight again, warding off the headache and nausea she felt. She wiggled her fingers impatiently, but her eyes shot open when she didn't feel anything in her hand, but instead Oliver was gently cradling her face, positioning the earplug inside her ear that wasn't currently against the pillow.

He used two fingers to coerce her to turn her head to the other side and repeated the action. She was more than a little grateful that she was now facing away from him, towards most of her machines and the wall, so that he wouldn't see the tears that were streaming down her face. Of course, hiding her face only did so much, and there was no way Oliver Queen was going to miss the slight shudder of her shoulders as she forced herself to keep quiet.

He rubbed her back lightly, before she felt the vibration of the chair wheels softly recede once again towards the table.

Just when she thought she couldn't feel worse.

* * *

The ear plugs did their job and she didn't hear any more talking that night. She didn't hear anyone leave, either, and the fact that they were giving her the space she knew she had pretty much demanded weighed heavily on her. She got what she wanted; why did it feel so sucky?

She had no right to be upset with everyone for conversing without her. She wasn't the best company, she knew, and if they could actually smile and be happy while she was there, well, wasn't that what she really wanted? For everyone to not be drowning in misery just because of her diagnosis?

But why did it have to happen when she was going through chemotherapy? Why did it have to happen without her?

She fell into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable with the lingering nausea and general sense of malcontent in her own mind. Her anxiety over her own feelings built, and she wasn't all that surprised when she suddenly opened her eyes and leaned over the side of the bed and expelled what little lunch she had managed to get down earlier that day.

It was unintentional, of course, and she was just grateful that it had been on the side that is opposite of where Oliver sat, but that didn't stop the tears from falling, once again.

She felt hands on her shoulders sitting her back up and the familiar weight and shape of the kidney dish being pressed into her hands as she focused on not getting sick again. A minute later and the bed sank beside her and what she knew to be Oliver's hands rubbing a slow, rhythmic pattern on her back. She cracked open an eye and saw two nurses working diligently to clean up the mess she made, the smell of industrial strength cleaners reaching her nostrils and making her retch again.

"I'm sorry," she cried after she was finished, relinquishing the dish to a nurse and turning her head into Oliver's chest. His arms instantly ensconced her and held her tightly to him as she sobbed into his chest.

He hushed her gently, the stroking on her back never faltering or stopping, just slowly calming her down. When she finally felt like she could speak, the tears were still flowing quickly, but her breathing had finally regulated. She didn't remove her face from his chest, not wanting to see his reaction.

"I'm so sorry...I don't want any of this. I just want to stop being sick! I don't want to feel like this anymore! I'm sorry!"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry." Oliver's hand finally halted on her back and he was now rocking them slowly. His own words were thick with tears, hating to see her in this much pain. "I want to - I want it to stop too, but you've got to be strong. You've got to get through this, okay? You're gonna be halfway done after all of this, you hear me? That's….that's so good, Felicity. I'm so proud of you."

Those words only served to make her cry harder. She didn't feel like someone that anyone should be proud of, least of all Oliver Queen.

"I don't think I can do it." Her words were muffled by her own breathing and Oliver's shirt, but they were loud and clear to all listening.

"Yes, you can. I know you can. And I know you will-"

"I'm so fucking tired, Oliver, I don't know…"

"Rest, rest, you need to rest."

Her body was shaking ever so slightly, from the inside out it felt like. That, coupled with the always familiar pain in her abdomen - a combination of indigestion and extreme hunger, not to mention the strain it had just gone through - and her arms were always wrapped tightly around her, as if that would somehow stymie the pain.

She knew Oliver was just trying to help, that he thought if she just relaxed that somehow this would be better, but she didn't _feel_ very relaxed, and everything hurt and she didn't want him to leave and that just made her cry harder.

"I _want_ to, I just - don't leave, please, I'm sorry about yelling at you-"

"Shh, shh, hey, you don't have to apologize for anything, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Let's just lie down a bit, hmm? How's that sound?"

And then, in a move that surprised both of them, he kicked off his loafers and scooted into bed with her. He positioned her gently on her left side (he knew that she didn't like resting on the side with the port implanted) and he untucked the blanket around their feet and slid it up over them as he relaxed behind her. He hesitantly maneuvered her wires and tubes to rest of her shoulder and between the two of them and was careful that he didn't lie on them unintentionally. He found her hands, still tightly clasped around her stomach, and he slipped his own right underneath them, even nudging her loose MIT shirt up a bit and resting it against her warm, bare skin.

It wasn't overtly sexual in that moment, either. It wasn't Oliver trying to feel Felicity up, and for the first time, her body didn't even register the possible undertones there. Instead, she just felt...loved. Like he was there for her and nothing else bad could or would happen. That he wasn't mad at her and he didn't care about what she had said or done earlier...she knew it might not last forever, but it was all she needed in that moment.

* * *

When she woke up the next morning, Oliver was still in bed with her, which was not a thought she would ever had assumed she'd think in this lifetime, yet it was still alarmingly true.

He had to be just as tired as she was; she had only caught a glimpse of the clock last night during her breakdown but it had been around 2 in the morning. It was a little past 9 now, and she still felt like she had gotten ten minutes of sleep, if that. The fitful rest combined with the check-ins from nurses had taken a toll on the both of them.

Her hand drifted to the side and she hit her buzzer for the nurse. She knew Oliver would wake up the second the door opened and as much as she didn't want that, she did want an ice pack.

Sure enough, she felt the tension abruptly return to Oliver's muscles as the door creaked open and Mary walked patiently to her bed.

"Heard you had a bit of a rough night, Miss Felicity." Somehow 'Miss Felicity' sounded so much kinder when it came from her mouth and not Marcus's - she couldn't explain it, but she liked it. "How you feelin' now?"

"Hot," she responded truthfully.

That got Oliver's attention, and he sat up next to her, watching with impatient eyes as her temperature was taken and a small, consoling smile was on Mary's face.

"No fever." She felt him deflate at that news, letting out a huge breath, relaxing. "Which, unfortunately, means that it's just the chemo, doin' its job, honey. You had a little bit of this last time, right?"

She nodded. The heat came on with every session she had, but it usually didn't last this long. She voiced her concerns.

"You're going to start noticing the side effects getting a bit more severe, sweetheart. The more you get, the more your body wants to get rid of it. You've already been spittin' it out, looks like your body's tryin' to get you to sweat it out, too."

Well, wasn't that just great?

"How else you feeling?"

"Tired," she breathed out. "Shaky. Tired."

"Nauseous?"

"A little."

"I'm gonna go get you some more Benadryl and and some cold compresses and we'll see if that helps, okay? You're not due for some more anti-nausea pills until noon, unfortunately. And," Mary pointed a finger threateningly at Felicity before she made to leave, "when I get back, you better have had used the bathroom because I _know_ you's drinking water like you're supposed to, right?"

"Right," Oliver answered for her, waiting until she turned around to give Felicity a pointed look.

She slowly sat up, moving her legs off the bed, not enjoying the way small tremors ran through her thighs. Without needing a word to be said, Oliver slipped off the bed and offered her his arm to help her to the bathroom. He left her at the door but paused at the look on her face.

"Will you uh - will you still stay with me today?"

"Of course. Everyone else is going to give us some time today, too. I asked them to," he rushed to say, seeing the guilt spread on her face. "My choice. If you want them here, they'll come. After last night, I just..."

"O-okay. Yeah, no, that sounds good. Thanks."

"Always."

* * *

**A/N2: On FDD, you'll see what Oliver's feeling and how he tries to cope with all of this, with the new fun added bonus of Sara Lance's wisdom! Don't hold too much against Felicity - chemo wreaks havoc not just with your physical state, but your mental one as well. It's definitely harder than this story could ever convey.**


	32. Verbal Communication

**A/N: A DAY (ALMOST TWO) LATE BUT HERE IT IS NONETHELESS. Vacation is going well, obviously :) I need to respond to a lot of reviews and messages (I haven't forgotten about you, Sam!) and thank all you wonderful people but I just probably won't have time this week. But do not think I will forget! I won't. **

**Now, for something I know many people have been waiting for...read on ahead! **

* * *

She slept most of her third day, a Wednesday, away, with Oliver in the bed with her resting as well. She assumed he probably got up when she was sleeping because every now and then he'd be wearing different clothes or have a different magazine in his hand, and he definitely ate at some point, something she was too nervous to do, but she didn't care about that. What she cared about was every time she went to bed, he was there, a solid, heavy presence beside her, and whenever she woke up, he was with her too.

Thursday was more of the same, except her muscles and bones ached something fierce. It wasn't as bad as it had been after waking from the infection scare (while she was unconscious during that, the doctors had given her huge shots to stimulate her white blood cells to be made and she never wanted to re-live that pain ever again. Or those bruises.) she was still just miserable. Her friends trickled in and she found herself trying to encourage conversations between them whenever she could.

She felt crazy guilty for feeling so upset at them for talking and enjoying each other's company when she was going through chemo. She didn't know how to explain it and she was immensely grateful that no one actually called her out on it. No one except her own brain, which replayed her actions and words constantly. She had been a bitch, but no one seemed to hold it against her, which was great.

A lull fell in the late afternoon when she was still feeling ill at ease, but couldn't get to sleep. It was just Oliver and her, watching some mindless Netflix series that was a little too intense for her, but he seemed to be really interested in it, so she didn't have the heart to tell him to turn it off.

"So are you going to do it?"

"Kill people?" She said the first thing that came to mind, which was a sign that maybe she had watched too much of this show in the first place.

"Call your mom."

"Oh."

Sara had mentioned it briefly, saying that now was the time to do it if she was going to, but Oliver hadn't looked like he was paying attention. That was a flub on Felicity's part - he was _always_ paying attention, and she should know that by now.

Her phone materialized in her hand, even though she never saw Oliver even look away from the TV. He was just that on top of everything.

"Will you stay?"

He gave her a sort of curious look.

"Of course I will."

He muted the television instantly and even got up to let Marcus know that they weren't to be disturbed until he told him it was okay, save for a medical emergency. He came back over to the bed and sat down on the side of it, nudging her to move over so he wasn't hanging off the side of the bed completely.

Somehow that simple action made her feel better. Oliver might have always been in his chair beside her, but sitting on the bed with her made it more...together. She truly felt like he was in her corner at that moment.

She flicked the phone to speaker, and hit the speed dial for her mother. And they listened to it ring.

She didn't mean to let out a huge sigh of relief when the machine picked up, it was just reflexive. As prepared as she was, she never wanted to tell her mom something like that. Unfortunately, it didn't last long because before it beeped for her to leave a brief message telling her to call her back, the harried voice of her mother picked up over her recorded message.

"I got it, I got it, I got it, hold on, I got it, hold - ah, there we go. I'm good. Hello?"

She didn't have to look to see Oliver's eyebrows raise towards his hairline. She knew that was inevitable.

"Hi mom."

"Felicity! Why are you calling? Is everything alright? You don't usually call - I mean, I can't remember the last time you called me instead of sending me one of those phone e-mails!"

"Texts, mom. I send you texts."

"Yeah, well, it's made up of text, so I think that word is confusing. Anyway, how are you, sweetheart?"

"I'm g-" Oliver nudged her hard before she could even get the word out. She looked up at him, confused, but he shook his head slightly. Right. Her default answer wouldn't really work in this situation. She was decidedly _not_ good. "I'm okay right now, mom."

"Well, I'm glad. Are you still working for that sexy billionaire because darling, if you won't make a move, I wi-"

"I have something to tell you!" Even from hundreds of miles away, her mother could still make her blush. Just figures.

"Oh, are you with him now? Oliver Queen? Are you dating him?"

She let out a small moan at the turn this conversation had taken. It was reminiscent of her awkward conversation with Sara but somehow much, much worse. She didn't think she could handle the mental imagery of her mother and Oliver together. It was too much. Way, way too much.

"No, mom. I'm not. I just - this is really important, okay?"

"Sure, sweetie, whatever it is, you can tell me, you know that."

She most definitely did _not _know that, not if her entire childhood was any indication, but she knew she didn't have much of a choice.

"I was feeling a bit off a few months ago...just kind of sick and stuff, so I went to the doctor and after a lot of tests, they figured out what was wrong with me."

"Oh, and? It's not one of them nasty STDs, is it? Because my friend Sandy just got one and man, that sucker is with her 'til the end of time!"

"Mom, no, no, it's nothing - it's not that. It's cancer."

Oliver took her hand in his and held it just as tightly as she was grasping his. He hated hearing those words come out of her mouth almost as much as she hated saying them.

"Baby, did you just say cancer?"

"Yeah, I did, and I just - I've been getting some treatment which is good for me and everything is going fine but I didn't want to not tell you…" She had to stop before she started to cry. She needed to be strong for this, strong for her mother.

"Treatment? You mean like, like they give out on those medical drama shows? Chemotherapy and all that?"

"Yeah, mom. Chemo and all that."

A long pause drew out between them. Felicity looked up at Oliver and his kind, patient, understanding eyes. He wasn't judging her for not telling her mother sooner, he wasn't yelling at her for going about it a certain way, he was just...there. With her. He was present.

"So what do I - what do I do?" Her mom sounded how Felicity felt: completely lost, like you were floating in the middle of the ocean without a paddle.

"You can, if you want, maybe come visit me?"

"Oh, sweetheart, yes, yes, I do!" She heard her mom blow her nose loudly through the line and she almost smiled at that. Her mom never changed, despite any situation. "It's just, well, my hours were cut at the Palace and I've been working so hard, getting myself in a better place after Charlie…"

Ah yes, Charlie. The 'high-roller' from the casino Donna Smoak worked at, except he was better at getting high out back than he was at rolling. He had maxed out a lot of her mom's credit cards trying to gamble the money back, and in a move that surprised no one, ended up in jail for his efforts. Her mom was still trying to dig herself out of the financial pit that he had flung her in.

Oliver's knee collided with her's again and she looked up at him, confused. He rose his eyebrows at her, to which she scrunched up her face at him. For all the nonverbal communication they had excelled at in the last few months, she was having a hard time deciphering what she should do now. Was she supposed to reassure her mom that it was okay, that she didn't have to come out now? Or was she supposed to demand her presence? She had no idea what Oliver wanted her to do.

He clearly grew frustrated with her inability to understand what he was saying without saying anything, and finally he just cleared his throat, sending Felicity an apologetic look.

"Miss Smoak? This is Oliver Queen."

"Mr. Queen, hi, are you with - are you with my baby right now? Is she okay?"

"Yes, she is fine, she's doing well, but I wanted to offer you the use of the Queen private jet in order to make your visit to Felicity possible."

"The, uh, the what now?"

"Queen Consolidated has a private jet that we use for various business needs. It would be no trouble at all for it to pick you up in Las Vegas and have you here for say, next week? I understand that the weekends are your busiest time at the casino and I of course would never want to do anything to jeopardize your financial wellbeing."

_Financial wellbeing?_ Felicity mouthed the words back at him, trying to decide whether she wanted to kiss him or slap him.

"Are you sure that's okay? I mean, I wouldn't want to be any trouble…"

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't mean it," he repeated the phrase he said to Felicity so many times before. "QC also has a penthouse suite at a local hotel, I'll go ahead and put your name down for that."

He offered that before she could insist that she stay with them at the apartment, using all the knowledge about the lady that he had gleaned from Felicity to know that she wouldn't turn down accommodations such as that.

"I think that sounds just wonderful, Mr. Queen! Thank you so much! Felicity, baby, are you still there? Do you hear that? I'm coming to visit you!"

Felicity closed her eyes briefly, gathering her strength.

"Yeah, I heard, mom. It'll be great. We can talk about everything more when you get here."

"How about we count on the jet picking you up Monday morning and dropping you back off Friday morning? I'll have Felicity send you a 'phone e-mail' with all the details, if that sounds good to you."

Felicity couldn't help rolling her eyes at Oliver's charm - hard.

"That sounds so great! Yay! Felicity, sweetheart, I'll see you soon, ok?"

"Okay mom. I'll see you Monday. Love you."

"Love you too!"

Oliver disconnected the phone before another situation arose that he couldn't talk his way out of.

"You knew it was going to happen sooner or later," he reminded her before she could get a word out.

"You didn't have to offer her your private jet!"

"Think of it this way - this let's us control exactly how long she's here for, right? We'll get your counts done on Thursday, hopefully they'll be good enough for us to go out, and we can do a nice dinner out someplace fancy that your mother will enjoy, and then you still have your whole free week after that."

"I-I guess?" She looked at him, amazed. "Do you ever get tired of having the answer to everything?"

"No, not really."

A small laugh escaped her before she allowed her head to slump forward, her forehead resting against his shoulder.

"This is all so real now."

"What, it wasn't before?"

"I don't know," she looked up at him as she fought to find the words she needed. "It's just...this is it. I don't have anyone else to tell. My mom was it. And now...now all that's left is chemo and blood draws and counts and port flushes and biopsies...at least before I had this to distract me. What do I think about now?"

"You think about the future," he whispered to her, his hand running up and down her arm closest to him. "You think about beating this and moving on. You think about redoing the lair and building computers with Trey. Stuff like that."

"Stop being so perfect," she groaned.

"Never." He slid out from underneath her and guided her body into laying back down on the pillows. "You tired?"

"I guess that took it out of me," she nodded.

Oliver couldn't help but to pale at that.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just...that's kind of what you said after we told Walter. Before we had to bring you in here for sepsis."

"Well, I'm already in the hospital." She quailed under his stare. "Bad joke, I know, I'm sorry. I promise, I just feel tired and a little nauseous. Nothing different from before, unfortunately."

"Get some rest," he told her, pressing a light kiss to her forehead.

"Mmm, what are you gonna do?" She mumbled sleepily.

"I'm going to call and pray that the QC jet is in America, or it can be in the next three days."

"So you _don't_ have everything all figured out…"

"Where's the fun in that?" He waited for her to open her eyes to give him her signature glare before tossing her a wink. She laughed before falling into an instant sleep.

* * *

Luck must've been on Oliver's side because the jet not only was in Starling City, but had no flight plans for the next two weeks at all. Oliver considered this luck, Felicity considered it the absolute opposite.

It wasn't that she didn't want to see her mother. She did, honestly, and she knew that she'd feel a certain level of comfort that had been lacking before at the mere sight of her. Just telling her that she cancer - even if she gave no other details whatsoever - lifted an unseen weight off of her shoulders. But that weight was replaced by the crushing realization that her mother was going to be in Starling City, and as the days passed, it only grew.

It was Sunday night and she was feeling good - a byproduct of the steroids she was on, she knew, because by Tuesday or Wednesday, she'd be sunk back in her normal lethargy patterns and taking naps every few hours or so - but even her good mood was sullied with the knowledge that her mother was coming. Here. To Starling City. To her apartment. To her life.

"Eat."

Oliver pushed the bowl of mushroom and asparagus risotto towards her. She hadn't developed any mouth sores with this last bout of chemo so she could eat stuff that wasn't so mushy, but for some reason Oliver was playing it safe with the meals, at least for now. He assured her that she'd be able to eat whatever she wanted to when her mother got into town, as if that somehow soothed the anxiety.

She picked up her plastic fork and stabbed it into the rice.

"12 hours. She'll be here in 12 hours."

"More like 15, but yes. She will be. Whether you eat or don't eat, so you might as well put that bite in your mouth."

She shoved it in and rolled her eyes at him. "Happy?" She asked with her mouth full.

"Ecstatic." He actually did look ecstatic though, beaming at her despite her poor manners.

"You know, you could look a little less happy that this is happening. Of course, it's easy for you - she's going to love you. She already _does_ love you."

"I will never be happy that you are feeling stressed about something, but I think this will be good for you. _You_ don't have to look so miserable about this. She's better than my mom, at least."

"If that is the standard that we are holding all mothers to, then I am concerned for the next generation of children."

"Touche."

"Promise me you won't leave me alone with her?"

He looked apprehensive. "She's going to want some alone time with you, Felicity. You're her daughter."

"I know - and we will! Just not in the beginning. Please?"

"I'll be here all day tomorrow, how's that? No promises on the rest of the days."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"She just wants to take care of you."

She gave him a look out of the corner of her eye as she stirred the risotto some more. It didn't taste as delicious as she remembered it from a few weeks ago when Oliver had first made it, and that only depressed her.

"I know, Oliver. I know she means well. Its just...hard. We didn't really have a typical mother-daughter relationship growing up. She never really...got me, I guess. She never understood my love of computers and science and school, and I never really understood the allure of trying to make myself all dolled up for people who didn't care about me. And don't say a thing about my current wardrobe." Oliver bit his tongue. "She's just a lot to handle, my mom. And I was finally feeling good about where we were - and I mean, not _we_, like you and I, although I kind of like where we are too, not like, physically, because we're not physical - or, well. Um. But you know, um, I was also thinking we as in everyone and me and my treatment, I was even including doctors in there too, but you know, we found a routine and Laurel is finally coming around and just...a lot. Lots of people. Lots of 'we.'"

"I know what you meant." _Sort of_, he silently amended. "Are you done with that?" He motioned to the bowl in front of her that was now more mush than rice.

"I'm sorry, it just - it just doesn't taste that good to me anymore. I really am sorry!"

"Fruit cup?"

"Sure," she nodded, more to appease him than her actual desire for the citrus.

"That reminds me - Thea was thinking of doing something for you on Wednesday night. Down at the club. Your mom could come too."

"But I won't have my counts done by then-"

"The club isn't open, there will be no one there except Team Arrow and Lance, maybe Laurel if she's really coming around like you say."

"Is that...safe? I mean, for me?"

"We're going to sterilize it as clean as humanly possible. It'd just be easier to do it down there than it would be to do it here. I would never do anything to endanger your immune system, you know that."

"I do know that. And, uh, do _what_ exactly down there?"

"...It's a surprise."

"A surprise."

"Yeah. Thea came up with it after Sara said something and it - it's their way of doing something for you is all."

"Is it going to hurt?" She vaguely recalled a time in her life when Sara would 'surprise' her with a new self-defense move, and those surprises usually left her bruised and sore for a few days.

"No, it is not going to hurt. Eat your papaya."

"Bossy," she muttered, but speared the fruit anyway, chewing it slowly. She watched Oliver clean up the kitchen, methodically putting everything away, choosing to hand wash their dishes over using her small dishwasher. It was so domestic, so natural to see him there. She could hardly remember the time when she thought him just sitting on her couch was the craziest thing she'd seen.

When he was done, he grabbed her trash and plastic utensils, pitching them in the nearby trash can, before planting his hands on his hips and looking down at her.

"You don't look tired."

"I'm not."

"Steroids?"

"Yes."

"Anxious?"

"...Yes."

"Will playing video games take your mind off of things?"

She lit up at the prospect. "Yes!"

* * *

**A/N2: MAMA SMOAK IS COMING. Next chapter delves into their relationship a lot and hopefully explains why Felicity made the conscious decision to keep her mother in the dark for a while. And there's plenty of Detective Lance in the next chapter, too, in case you were missing him (WHO WOULDN'T?) Lots of stuff coming! I'm excited for you to read! **


	33. You Don't Know

**A/N: Ahh, I'm sorry I missed my last update! I am back from vacation - and sick as a dog. (What does that phrase mean? My dog is extraordinarily healthy.) I am feeling better now, but for a while it was gross. I'm probably still gross. Don't look at me.**

**Anyway, I'm back! I'm ready! Here we go! Are YOU ready? Answer: Probably! Enjoy this next chapter which gives you a little bit of insight into Felicity &amp; Mama Smoak's interactions and their relationship. Mother/daughter relations are complicated, y'all, but love conquers all or something like that. I have no idea what I'm saying. Please stop reading this and just skip to the chapter. I'm not lucid.**

* * *

Donna Smoak had been crying on and off for the past two days, but it was bordering on an hour straight currently. Felicity had been timing it.

Felicity was a pretty emotional person even before cancer. She cried at sad movies and at videos of dogs greeting soldiers coming home and she was known to be a bit of a basket case when it came to a certain vigilante, too. But for some reason, whenever she saw her mom cry, she didn't get emotional too.

She got mad.

She knew it was irrational in this specific case, but it hadn't always been that way.

She remembered growing up and watching her mom cry over men that didn't treat her right. First it was her dad, leaving them high and dry. They had both cried then, albeit Felicity's tears were in the dark, silent, as she huddled beneath her blankets, wondering why he never came home. After that were Donna Smoak's less-than-illustrious boyfriends, always leaving her with some sort of mess to clean up after they were done tearing through her life. And if it wasn't men making her mother cry, it was other things. It was her jobs, with their matching horrible hours and horrible pay. It was the bills, piling up and never being paid. It was her distress at seeing her only daughter forego makeup to build a computer from scratch. It was so many different things, all of which never seemed to go Donna Smoak's way.

Felicity didn't begrudge her mother for crying over these things. It was normal to feel upset at these. What bothered her was the way that her mother used to cry over them like it was an out of some sort. Like crying was somehow going to _fix_ the situations. Instead it fell to her shoulders to get the bills in some sort of order, calling the companies to get on payment plans. It was Felicity who cooked dinners for her mom to take to work and lunches for her to bring to school because Donna wasn't home a lot, and she wasn't a genius in the kitchen when she was. It was Felicity who would pat her mother's back and tell her that everything was going to be alright, that there were other fish in the sea, that she deserved _better_.

Didn't Felicity deserve better, too?

It had taken her a few years outside of her mother's house to fully appreciate everything that she hadn't back when she was younger. She could now look back and see how lucky she had been to have a mother that loved her, that didn't abuse her, that worked so hard day in and day out for her to be able to go to school and clubs that she was interested in. She really was lucky, and she knew that now. They might never have the Gilmore Girls-esque relationship she used to crave when she was little, but they had a mutual respect for each other, which was even better in her opinion. Which is why she felt so completely at a loss as she stewed in her own anger, watching her mother cry over her disease.

She had explained it as best as she could to her, with Oliver filling in the gaps that she might have missed, or just having a better knowledge of how the treatment was working to cure her. She was clinical but not too detached, making sure that her mother understood everything and that while Felicity wasn't enjoying the treatment per se, she was still getting through it. And then the waterworks started. And they hadn't stopped since.

She comforted her for the first few hours when she had first arrived in Starling. Even this morning, she made her best effort to be there for her mother. She understood that it had to be hard hearing about your child go through such an awful thing, but she also knew that crying wasn't going to get her anywhere. It wasn't going to make the problem go away. It wasn't going to cure Felicity. It wasn't going to do _anything_!

After she had stiffened beside her mother, she had to watch Donna turn to the other side and latch on to Oliver. He did the best he could with such an awkward situation being thrust upon him, rubbing her back consolingly. And that was when Felicity's eyes were drawn to the clock on the cable box, and she just sat there, waiting for her mother to stop crying.

She was up to an hour and seven minutes.

Just when she was about to explode, about to just tear into her mother, there was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it!"

She lunged up so fast and opened the door so quickly that she didn't even see who it was on the other side of the door, just grabbed the frame and closed her eyes as dots danced across her vision.

"Whoa, are you okay?"

"Peephole, Felicity!"

She slowly opened her eyes to see Detective Lance holding her forearm lightly, and Oliver had pulled her mother off of him, looking poised to get up in a second.

"I'm fine, I'm good - just got up too fast is all. Sorry."

"Jeez, kid, you're still recovering. Gonna put _me_ in the hospital," Lance muttered before taking in the room before him. "Oh, Christ, I'm sorry - I forgot, I mean, I didn't realize…"

Both Felicity and Oliver stared at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Donna just blew her nose loudly.

Lance held up the bag of muffins apologetically. "It's Wednesday. I brought muffins. Forgot you had company this week."

"Oh, - oh!" It took Felicity a moment to understand what he was saying - chemo brain at its finest - but she wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste. "Come in, come in! We can still have muffins!"

"Are you sure…?" He didn't have time to ponder if she really was sure because the next thing he knew, she had a firm grip on his jacket and was pulling him in the door.

"Mom - _Mom_." Felicity waited impatiently for her mother to add another tissue to the ever growing pile on the coffee table. "This is Detective Quentin Lance. I told you about him earlier, remember? Detective Lance, this is Donna Smoak. My mom."

He held his hand out politely but was completely taken aback when Donna rose from the couch and lunged at him, her arms going around his neck instantly and the waterworks resuming just as quickly. "My baby!" She wailed. "My poor, sweet baby!"

"Oh, brother," Felicity muttered, taking the bag of muffins out of the detective's hand that was still hanging awkwardly at his side. She brought them to the table, not surprised when Oliver was behind her suddenly.

"Are you okay?" He asked out of the corner of his mouth as he busied himself with putting the muffins on a plate.

"Yeah, fine. Why?"

"Because you've been glaring at your mother for a half hour and not saying a word."

"Hard to say a word over her sobs, don't you think?" She grabbed a blueberry muffin and a paper plate and went to turn around when he grabbed her arm.

"Hey...she's just upset is all. You would be too. I think she's doing better than she was yesterday."

"I _would_ be upset? I am, Oliver! I was diagnosed with this disease, or do you not remember that part? And I don't think I've cried as much as she has already in the last four months of this shitshow of my life. Not to mention, doing better today, when all she did was sob yesterday - not really a high bar we've set, don't you think?" He opened his mouth to respond but she just shook her head at him. "This is what it is going to be like all week, you know. Probably for the rest of my treatment. Hell, my life. I don't even know why I'm surprised anymore. Welcome to The Donna Smoak show. All about her. Which is fine if she wasn't in my city and in my apartment and on my...my _you_! And after everything, I just don't know if I can handle that right now."

Her words had gotten progressively louder and it was only when she stopped to take a breath did she realize that Detective Lance was still awkwardly holding her mother, but they were both staring at her, eyes wide, mouths slightly agape.

And then her mother started to cry again, and that was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"I was right, I can't handle this." Felicity grabbed her plate and a small bottle of two percent milk that the detective had also brought and stormed away, intent on eating alone in her room.

"Felici-"

"I'll go," Detective Lance spoke up, grabbing Oliver's arm before he could follow her down the hall. After a very uncomfortable transfer of Donna into the younger man's arms, Quentin took a deep breath and traced Felicity's footsteps into her bedroom.

He didn't bother to knock, assuming she wouldn't respond or if she did, it wouldn't be to let him in.

"I'll be right there, Oliver, just let me calm down for a second."

She was sitting indian style on her bed with her back to the door, picking apart her blueberry muffin like she always did.

"Nice try, but I don't think I can pull off that brooding look like he does."

"Detective, what-"

"Don't tell me you really thought I wasn't gonna have any questions about that little scene back there."

"It's complicated," she bit out. At least with Oliver, he already knew some of the baggage she had with her mother, not to mention witnessing it firsthand yesterday and with the phone calls between the two leading up to her visit. Detective Lance had been so good about not asking questions about her past that he really was going into this blind.

"I don't doubt that, but you're still gonna have to give me _something_."

"I've never...it's never been great between us."

Quentin nodded, moving further into the room, closing the door behind him. He eventually made his way to the bed, sitting awkwardly on it in front of her.

"I kind of got that, yeah."

"I don't think that I can handle her crying about this though. I thought I could, when it was the beginning, but now - I just don't think I can. And I know it's hard for her, but how is she unable to stop crying for two seconds?"

"You don't."

"I don't - I don't what?"

"You don't _know_, Felicity. You don't know what it is like to be a parent, and to know your child is hurting and there is nothing you can do about it. You don't know what the worry feels like, eating away at you. I'm not saying I cried for days over Sara or even Laurel, even though I might've, but…but don't say that you know how she feels. It is a lot more complicated than you think. You give your whole life for your kids and then to-" He stopped himself, swallowing thickly. "You just don't know. Not until you're a parent."

She was silent at that, mulling over his words. She knew he was right. She didn't want to detract from the struggle of being a parent - biological or not, in her case - and just _knowing_ about her battle with this disease. And Quentin - he had _watched_ it. He had seen it ravage her body and beat down her will. He had watched all of it and he was still here. Being disappointed with her for how she treated her mother. She felt ashamed and grateful, all at once.

"I've never...I've never been what she wanted. I was never as pretty as she wanted or as popular or as outgoing or as _fun_ and now, it just - it feels like I can't even be healthy for her." Her eyes started welling with unshed tears, held back from years of feeling inadequate. "Like, I can't even do this right? I can't give her this one thing?"

"Oh - oh, sweetheart." He sat more fully on the bed and pulled her towards him, engulfing her in a hug as she cried out the tears that had been threatening to fall. "You don't have to be anything but yourself, you understand me? As parents, that's all we want. All we need from our kids. Yes, we want you to be healthy too, but this - this is so out of your control. It's not your fault. We just want you to be who you are."

She cried for a few minutes, big, fat, crocodile tears, unable to stop. She had never felt more like her mother than in that moment. When she finally pulled back, she gratefully took the proffered tissue from the detective, wiping her eyes.

"Ugh, perfect," she moaned at the tissue, spotting eyelashes in the mix. "Just what I need."

He took her face in his hands and brushed a few more stray eyelashes off of her face, giving her a smile of strength. When she smiled back, he felt the familiar warmth of accomplishment, remembering his old adage - if she wasn't smiling, he wasn't leaving. He tensed back up as the smile fell off her face just as abruptly as it came.

"I still don't know what I'm going to do - I can't handle her crying, or making this about her. I just can't. Every time she cries, it just reminds me of everything and I feel even worse for having this disease and-"

"Hey, hey, hey, okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Let's go out there and explain it to her, just like that. She'll understand."

"What part of the last twenty minutes made you think that rationality is a trait that runs in my family?"

"She'll do it because you asked. Trust me. She'll do it because you're her daughter."

"Will you stay?" She asked hesitantly. She needed another parental figure there, someone who could control and steer the conversation in a way that she doubted either her or Oliver could.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course I will. Now go get cleaned up and get those hairs out of your eyes and come back out there with me. Gotta get you another muffin, too."

"Okay, sure. Yeah. Okay."

"That means you got to get off the bed."

"I was getting there."

* * *

Donna Smoak was no longer crying her eyes out, but the silence was almost worse to Felicity. They all sat around the coffee table in the living room, with her and Oliver on the couch, Detective Lance perched on the arm, and Donna sitting across in an armchair.

"Mom, I can't - I mean...I don't want this visit to be all about me having cancer. I don't. But every time I see you crying...it just...reminds me of it. More than I already am. I'll answer any questions you have and tell you anything you want to know, Oliver will too, I just...I'm asking you to please, please try and make it not...just less, okay?"

"What, I'm not allowed to cry anymore? I'm not allowed to have _feelings_? I'm not allowed to be upset because my baby is dying?"

Felicity forced herself not to give Lance a knowing look.

"That's not - that's not what I meant, mom. And you just can't think of it that way, okay? Don't look at it as me _dying_. I'm not going to die. I'm going to beat this."

"I can't just turn it off, you know? I can't just not care suddenly-"

"And that's not what Felicity is asking you to do," Lance explained. "She's just trying to tell you that it's hard for her to see you in that kind of pain, just like it's hard for you to see her."

"Hard? Hard for me to see her this way? Well, that's an understatement if I've ever heard one. And don't think that just because you hang out with my daughter now that this makes you some kind of expert. You don't know what it's like to see this happening with your own kid!"

She hadn't meant her words to be cutting, but they were. Felicity knew her jaw had dropped open and she suddenly regretted not telling her mother more about Detective Lance and his family situation. This was her fault. Before she could cut in though, the detective held up a hand to stop her.

"I know _plenty_ about worrying for your kids and watching them get hurt, I'll have you know. And I may not have raised Felicity, but I like to think I know a little about her by now, too. And what she needs right now isn't for you to make this about yourself. She needs for you to listen, and hold her, and make her think of something that isn't cancer for two minutes because it's the only thing that has been in her mind for months. If you don't think you can do that, then we're going to have a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

Suddenly Donna Smoak and Quentin Lance were toe to toe in Felicity's living room, having a fairly controlled, but emotion-filled conversation that was only growing in strength and volume.

Detective Lance was going on about how he cared about Felicity and her mother was shouting about how she had _birthed her from her loins_ and just when Felicity thought it couldn't get any more ridiculous, Oliver leaned in close to her ear.

"Do you think they're going to kiss?"

The current position of the pair was very close and and they were both speaking animatedly with their hands and despite the heaviness of the situation, Felicity couldn't help but laugh aloud, which, oddly enough, silenced the argument instantly. They both looked down at her, almost shocked, as if they had forgotten she was there and had no idea why she would be laughing.

"I love both of you. So much."

"Felicity…"

"Sweetie…"

"You're arguing over who cares about me more," she realized. "And I love both of you. But mom, I was serious. I can't really handle it when you're emotional about this 24/7. I have been trying, but…"

"I didn't mean to make you upset, baby. I just…" Her mother's eyes took on the familiar sheen of unshed tears, but she straightened up at Felicity's aghast look. "I'll do better. I promise. I won't cry anymore."

"You can cry a little bit. I just cried a lot onto Detective Lance, so I think it's okay. Not that crying on Detective Lance is okay. Because I try to avoid that. Or he does. But if he does then he's really bad at it because I feel like I cry on him fairly often."

No one in the room even batted an eye at the long ramble that came out of her mouth, but her mother was now staring at the detective, whom she had been yelling at only minutes earlier, like he hung the stars in the sky.

"You let my baby girl cry on you?"

"Well, I mean…" His eyes darted to Felicity's for assistance as he flushed a significant amount more than he usually did when it was just the two of them. "Yeah, I guess, I just - I don't know-"

He didn't have to stumble over his words much longer as Donna had jumped out of her chair and wrapped him in her arms once again, this time neither crying or wailing incoherently. She had just locked her hands around his back and pressed her cheek to his chest. He had taken care of her baby girl when she wasn't able to, and if she couldn't cry to get all her damn feelings out, well, this was a second best option.

Oliver's hand crept over and grabbed hers, their fingers locking together perfectly out of instinct and habit.

"Do me a favor, Felicity," he murmured in her ear as she tried to quell her own tears at the sight of her two parental figures embracing.

"What's that?"

"Let's not mention to your mother how often you cry on me, okay?"

"Deal."


	34. Miracle Fruit Madness

**A/N: FLUFF ALERT. All the heavy moments of the last few chapters and Donna and everything and I gave everyone a little bit of a break. This is just as much for me as it is for them. Writing all that drama can be...draining. Writing stuff like this - very fun. Very light. Very happy.**

**In exciting personal news for me, I got a job~~~ which is GREAT NEWS for me [and my bank account]. I took a year off from my finance job to write a book or three (which I have not finished because I'm the world's GREATEST PROCRASTINATOR YAHHHHH kill me I need to finish them gosh) and strangely enough, a year from the day I left my last job, I gave a verbal acceptance of this new job. SO THERE IS JUST A LOT OF HAPPINESS EVERYWHERE, GUYS. I HOPE YOU'RE ALL HAVING AMAZING SUMMERS. Although school already started here, so it might be over. If you're starting school, I hope that's great too. I hope everything is great. Life is great.**

**READ ON!**

* * *

The rest of the day went by without incident - and distinctly less crying - much to Felicity's pleasure. She still wasn't cleared to go out of the house and be around crowds, unfortunately, which made for an awkward situation when her mother's go-to 'feel good' activity was shopping. But they made it through the day more or less intact. Felicity excused herself around four to take a nap, as they were supposed to be heading down to Verdant around six, and she had strict instructions to not eat anything beforehand.

Whatever she thought the surprise was going to be from Thea, all her ideas were quickly dismissed when she found out that Lance was going to be at the club that evening as well - it apparently was a full on Team Felicity get together. Nothing her mind came up with fit the scenario that was okay for Team Arrow, her mother, and the entire Lance family to be together for. Her mind was racing with possibilities as they piled into the town car that was being driven by Dig (much to her mother's delight.)

"Thea?" Oliver called out as he pushed open the door to Verdant, casting a slightly apologetic look towards Donna. Chivalry be damned, he wasn't about to let the two of them wander into a dark, empty club before him. There was a dim glow coming from the bar area, but he wasn't about to push his way in blind.

"Ollie!" A voice called out to him before the overhead house lights flickered on and the entire floor became illuminated.

Thea and Sara were behind the bar, both of them grinning happily at the sight of the three of them.

"Roy said he saw some more of those little heat lamps upstairs," Thea told them, all while Sara took a small step backwards and pointed knowingly down towards the lair. "He should be down soon. Come sit, come sit! You must be Felicity's mom!"

They made their way to the bar, both Oliver and Donna somehow striding along as if they owned the place - which was only true in one of their cases - while Felicity took her time, trying to gauge the responses from everyone.

Oliver clearly knew what was happening that night, but that didn't really make her feel much better about the situation. She knew he would never put her in danger but even he could never foresee how nights with her mother would turn out.

"Well, this is cozy," a familiar grumbly voice sounded from behind her. She turned and saw Detective Lance and Laurel making their way into Verdant slowly, neither accustomed to attending the club with any sort of regularity.

"Detective! Hi! Hi, Laurel." She gave a small smile to both, hoping that her and Laurel were past whatever animosity lingered from before. The answering smile gave her hope that they had both indeed moved on.

"Sara told us to come down here for dinner, is it just a dinner thing?" Laurel wondered aloud, greeting her more fully with a warm hand on her arm.

"I have no idea," she told them honestly. "I was just told to show up."

"Looks like the whole gang is here," Dig noted as he and Lyla walked in, exuding an air of comfortability that the Lances didn't have. Dig had been waiting for Lyla's arrival outside after dropping them off.

"Felicity, you're the guest of honor! Why are you so far away?" The youngest Queen beckoned her over to the bar.

She meandered over, noting the place cards with everyone's names on them in front of certain seats at the bar. She took her designated spot and had to laugh at Sara's eye roll.

"I had nothing to do with those," Sara whispered to her with a wink. "She's like a tiny whirlwind of planning."

"I can hear you," Thea piped up. "And I will choose to take that as a compliment. Everything is settled, so Roy - yup, right over there on the end, thanks!"

Donna Smoke took the corner seat at the bar, with Felicity next to her, followed by Oliver, Dig, Lyla, and Roy on the very end. On the other side of Donna was Quentin and Laurel, who was laughing softly at something her sister had said until Thea called them all to attention.

"Ahem, thank you! So, we are here to celebrate Miss Felicity Smoak." Thea actually paused and then encouraged everyone to give a brief round of applause, which only served to make Felicity blush like crazy. "We'll work on the very sad clapping skills later. Right now, we are going to eat. But _before_ then, Sara has something for you, Felicity."

"I just got it in a day ago from Africa," Sara told her with a small smile. "I've got some pills for everyone else -"

"What kind of pills?" Her father interjected, looking every bit the cop that he was.

"Everything's legal," she assured him, before daintily picking up a napkin and unfolding it gently in front of Felicity, sliding it towards her.

"Uh...you shouldn't have?"

She actually had no idea what she was looking at. It was about the size of the top her thumb, bright red and shiny. If she didn't know better she'd say…

"Is that a grape tomato?"

"It's a fruit. Miracle fruit, actually."

"And the miracle is that...it looks like a tomato? Wait, does this solve whether a tomato is a fruit or a vegetable? Because I have read a lot of different studies on this and I know _logically_ that science has decided that it's a -"

"It's not a tomato," Oliver cut her off. "But it will help you."

"The protein in it coats the tongue. It'll change what you taste, how you perceive certain things." Sara was trying not to look proud of herself, but she really was.

"But everything tastes metallic to me," Felicity pointed out. Several moments passed when everyone traded looks, unsure of what to say. "_Oh_! It'll make them not taste like that anymore!"

She felt the same familiar heat of embarrassment crawl up her skin once more at everyone's soft laughter. _Chemo brain_ was definitely a thing, and moments like this were not all that uncommon for her nowadays. She routinely forgot words now, or would lose track of a sentence after starting it, which wasn't a wholly new experience for her, but it was a change of pace for her to stop her own rambles because she forgot what she was talking about in the first place.

"So," she picked up the small fruit, rolling it between her fingers. "What do I do with it? Just eat it?"

"Make sure you chew it and try to get the juice all over your tongue, coating it."

"That's what-"

"I _urge_ you not to finish that sentence, Roy," Oliver cut him off instantly. "I'd hate to have to smack you in front of my sister."

"And then...what? You guys just watch me eat?"

"Don't be silly!" Thea bounced up behind Sara. "You'll have it for the whole meal, but I thought we could all take the pills afterwards. They make sour things taste really sweet - Sara said you can eat a lemon like an _apple_ after you have one! It'll be fun to have a little tasting party."

She couldn't stop the smile that was spreading over her face at the look of anticipation on everyone else's. They were genuinely excited for her to try this, and she had to admit, the idea of a crazy tasting party did sound a bit fun.

"You'll all do it? Even you?" She turned to look at Oliver, who looked to be biting the inside of his lip in order to maintain a straight face.

"Yes," he sighed, trying his hardest to look put out. "Even me."

She beamed at him, popping the fruit in her mouth and biting into it. It didn't taste like anything she had really encountered before; she had expected it to be really sweet for some reason, but it was actually a little bland. She made sure to swish the juice around her mouth, briefly sticking her tongue out at Oliver, who rolled his eyes but fought a smile.

When she finally swallowed, she looked up at Sara expectantly.

"How do I know it worked?"

"You eat something. Thea had Italian catered in from that place with the fettuccine you like so much." She pointed to a hightop table behind them, plastic dishes sitting above racks with heating lamps on underneath them.

They all stood up then, chatting happily, filling their plates with various pastas and garlic knots ("_Maybe this time you could catch any flying pastries that come flying at my face this time, Oliver?" _She teased mercilessly) and then they sat and Felicity knew all eyes were on her.

She pulled her bowl of salad to her first. She had been struggling with the way almost everything tasted recently, but some things were worse than others, with onions being on that list. She thought it had something to do with the smell not reconciling at all with the flavors in her mouth. It was disconcerting and made them something of a chore to eat.

She speared a plastic forkful of lettuce, onions, and radishes, all dripping with a healthy coating of ranch dressing and took a bite.

"_And?_" It was actually Lyla who looked most excited for her reaction.

She chewed and swallowed patiently before trying to silently convey to Sara, who still stood behind the bar, all of her gratitude. "This is _amazing_!"

The onions tasted just a little bit sweeter than she knew they would, but there wasn't even a hint of the metallic taste that she had been struggling with so much lately. She knew that everyone was waiting for a more in depth review, but for the first time in a long time, her stomach was making itself very known and she felt like she could eat _anything_!

"Well, I guess now that that's out of the way, everyone else can dig i-"

The scraping of a fork on a plate distracted Thea suddenly, and all eyes were drawn to Roy, who, just like Felicity, had his mouth filled with food already. He stopped mid-chew, eyes wide, taking in the situation.

"Oh, was I supposed to wait?" He mumbled around his mouthful, eliciting a few groans and a lot more eye rolls as everyone else picked up their forks.

* * *

"This is _so_ good," she told Oliver for the tenth time in the last ten minutes.

"I can see that," he smiled at her. "But no rush, you know. Don't want to make yourself sick."

She heeded his words, opting to take a sip of her drink instead of shoveling more food in her face. She was so happy with the way everything was going. Detective Lance, her mom, and Laurel were currently discussing some of the crazier laws in Las Vegas, laughing pretty hard at some of the stories that they all had firsthand experience with. Thea and Sara were eating behind the bar, with Thea leaning over near Roy, occasionally stealing a bite off his plate and Sara relaxing in front of them, chatting amicably with Felicity, Oliver, Dig, and Lyla.

"How long does this thing last?" Felicity asked Sara when there was a lull in the conversation between them.

"Fruit lasts about an hour, the pills - kind of like a broken down fruit with just the proteins in it - only about twenty minutes or so. Completely natural and healthy."

"How did you hear about these? Did Nyssa send them?"

Felicity couldn't help but see the dark cloud that passed over her friend's face at the mention of her on-again off-again girlfriend.

"I saw them when I was...traveling, but they were mostly used to sweeten wine. The locals got a good kick out of having travelers taste them and then try to eat fruits. I looked it up when you were talking about things not tasting right and I guess its pretty common practice for people undergoing chemotherapy to use them. I only got a few berries in and they don't last long, but I'll see about getting them from a U.S. supplier if you think they work."

"Oh, I think they work," she laughed, patting her full belly. "I can't remember the last time I ate this much!"

"Three weeks ago at the winery," Oliver noted absently without looking up from his pasta. At the sudden silence, he looked up to see Felicity staring at him with a soft smile on her face. He really was incredible sometimes.

Sensing that it might become a moment between the two, Lyla tried to restart the conversation with Sara.

"So are they from your friend Nyssa?"

Felicity knew that there was no way for Lyla to know the history there or to even be as well-versed as she was in the nuances of Sara's facial expressions, but she still darted her eyes instantly to Sara, trying to gauge if she was okay. She smiled tightly, it not quite reaching her eyes, but kept her voice neutral.

"Actually, no. Nyssa and I are...we're taking a little break," she told the group at large, attracting her father and sister's attention.

"Really? Why?" Laurel had thought they were doing so well last time she heard.

"Just for...well, we'll see. She's going through something back home and I can't really be there for her like she needs me."

Felicity felt her stomach drop. She couldn't be there for Nyssa because she was there for _her_. She didn't think it was fair at all for her to have to choose between the two of them, but she knew that her own opinion was that Sara needed to go be with Nyssa. The two of them had gone through so much together, it wasn't right that it was Felicity's illness that was keeping her in Starling. She knew that this wasn't the time or place to have that talk with Sara - but it was definitely coming soon - and she sensed a few pairs of eyes on her, waiting to see her reaction to the news, so she plastered a smile on her face, picking up her fork again.

"Well, whoever gave you these berries, I would like to send them a very sincere thank you card. This is awesome."

* * *

"Alright, everyone ready?" Thea had cleared off all the plates once everyone was done, replacing them with clean appetizer plates, and was looking every inch the hostess she was destined to be.

"This tastes weird," Donna noted as she pushed the dissolving tablet around her mouth.

"I still don't know if a tomato is a fruit or a vegetable," Roy commented.

"Lord save me," Dig muttered under his breath, but his frustration eased into a smile as Lyla slid a hand onto his lap.

"I think this is fun," she told him and the group.

"Me too," Laurel agreed. "Are you doing it too Sara?"

The woman in question stuck out her tongue in response, the shrinking pill evident.

"I feel stupid," Lance grumbled, but he too lightened up as Donna Smoak swung an arm around him, squeezing him.

"The things we do for our kids, huh?"

"Yeah," he agreed, notably happier.

"Alright! First up - pickles!"

Thea went around, placing pickles on everyone's plate before Detective Lance was the first one to take the plunge.

"Cheers," he said, holding it up before taking a bite. Everyone mimicked him, including the look of shock that crossed his face. "Whoa. What the hell?"

"This is some weird shit," Dig agreed, even as he continued to eat the pickle.

Felicity didn't think she was getting the same exact experience as everyone else was, due to her tastebuds being altered by chemotherapy to begin with, but even she could tell that the pickle's vinegary aftertaste was nonexistent. Despite knowing it was a dill pickle, it tasted much more like the bread and butter variety that she would sometimes eat out of the jar.

The women, while less outspoken, all were very impressed and awed by the fruit's capabilities as well.

"Okay, okay, what's next?" Laurel asked excitedly, not even bothering to finish her pickle.

"Crackers and goat cheese," Thea announced, passing around a box of table crackers as she smeared a little cheese onto everyone's plates. Lyla hesitantly scooped some up, not normally a big fan of goat cheese, but she couldn't control the moan of appreciation she let out at that.

"It tastes like _frosting_!"

"What? No way, give me some more babe," Roy urged his girlfriend. "I want like, a lot."

"Okay," Laurel giggled. "This is pretty cool. I don't even understand it, but this is awesome."

"Does it taste good to you, baby?" Donna asked as she licked her fingers clean. Felicity nodded happily. Sweet and creamy, the cheese was definitely the best frosting she had ever tasted in her life.

She turned happily to Oliver, who was delicately putting his half-eaten cracker back on his plate, next to his pickle that was missing the most perfect bite from it.

"Enjoying yourself?" She teased, rolling her eyes at his precision.

"Always," he smirked, reaching up and using his thumb to dab off the tiniest bit of cheese on the corner of her mouth. His eyes darkened as he swept his tongue over his thumb, licking it clean, and Felicity was pretty sure she had just gotten turned on in front of her mother and his little sister.

"Next up, citrus!"

Tiny slices of lemons, limes, and oranges were arranged neatly on their plates, and they all took turns exclaiming how incredible the newfound taste was. The lemon was suddenly the sweetest lemonade they had ever drank, the limes tasted candied, and the oranges resembled orange soda than the tart juice they were known for.

The tasting continued with onions and hot sauce and broccoli and potato chips that baffled them all but still tasted incredible. It wasn't until Detective Lance mentioned meeting an informant did Felicity realize that the night had gotten much later than she had anticipated.

"Okay, one more before you go Detective, please?" Thea batted her eyes at the man and he had always been a sucker for sweet girls, so he resettled himself back in his chair and waited patiently. Thea smiled and nodded to Sara, who started setting up shot glasses.

"You trying to test me, kid?" Quentin asked his daughter gruffly, nodding to the glass.

"Relax, dad. I assure you, you've never had a shot of this before and you'll never want it again."

"Pretty sure my sponsor would disagree, but let's see what you've got," he muttered.

A familiar clear bottle was brought out and Sara expertly doled out portions to everyone sitting, plus herself and Thea.

"Oof." Donna leaned back as she got a whiff of the small cup in front of her.

"You can't be serious," Dig accused. "I can hardly smell this stuff, let alone take a shot of it."

"Have I led you astray yet?" Thea asked with mock outrage. "Ollie, tell them how trustworthy I am."

"Thou shalt not lie," he said with a smirk, before uncharacteristically tossing the cup back. Everyone watched with bated breath as he placed the glass down and seemed unphased. "Tastes a bit like apple juice."

They all slowly started to take their drinks, some sipping carefully, others (Roy) downing them quickly. Felicity winced as she swallowed hers, scrunching up her face as she looked at Oliver.

"Think that one was a bit different for me than it was for you guys. That, or my berry is wearing off."

"See, dad?" Laurel leaned over and patted her father on the shoulder. "Pretty sure your sponsor wouldn't care about that."

"I don't really see myself telling him - or anyone - that I just drank a shot of vinegar." He shuddered just thinking about it. "And on that very strange note, I've got to be going. Donna, did you need a ride back to your hotel?"

"That sounds fabulous! Thank you!" Both took their turns saying goodbye to the group, kissing their respective daughters on the cheeks before taking their leave.

Once they were gone, it took no more than five seconds for Roy to start up.

"Lance and Felicity's mom, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-"

"I'm never going to 'K-I-S-S' you ever again if you finish that song," Thea warned, taking in the looks of the three daughters that were staring at Roy with disgust. "Not to mention what they might do to you."

"Gross, Roy," Felicity moaned.

"Now that they're gone, there _is_ one more thing we have left to try - if you're up for it, Felicity," Sara offered.

"There is? I thought I took out everything! I researched this really well and bought everything you said to!"

"You didn't need to buy this, you already _had_ this," Sara told her, leaning down under the bar and opening up a small fridge there, pulling out two tall cans, opening them with a satisfying _hsss!_

"Beer?" Laurel questioned as she scooted down a few seats, now sitting next to Felicity in her mother's vacated spot.

"Not just any beer," Sara poured it out evenly into cups as she placed them around the bar. "Most beers taste pretty bad with the fruit. IPAs are awful, and no one wants to make light beers taste even worse. But this - this one gets better."

"It's a damn good beer by itself," Dig told her doubtfully as he lifted his cup. "Hard to get any better, actually."

"Just try it."

Even Thea had to gasp at that. "Whoa. I don't usually like dark beers, but just - _whoa_."

"It's pretty good," Oliver agreed, to which Roy loudly scoffed at.

"Pretty good? It tastes like a chocolate milkshake!" He said what everyone was thinking.

"This is seriously just straight Guinness?" Laurel asked as she picked up an empty can, examining it. "That's wild."

The beer only taste mildly sweeter to Felicity, who was now sure that the effects of her berry were wearing off, but it didn't put a damper on the night at all.

"I'm really glad we did this," she told Sara and Thea. "Thank both of you guys so much, seriously. This was awesome."

"I've been wanting to try out my sweet hostess skills on a group of more than Ollie and my mom, so I'm happy to help!"

"I'm happy if you're happy, Bug. And I was serious about getting you more, if you want some."

"I do, yes! That was - it was just great. I'm not even hungry, which I kind of was just getting used to being all the time."

She tried to turn her head and hide the yawn that was just barely escaping her mouth from Oliver, but, of course, nothing ever went unnoticed by him.

"It's getting late," he announced, standing up. "Thea, Sara, did you guys need any help cleaning up?"

"I think we should be good - Roy is going to help us, aren't you, babe?"

"Uh...sure." He looked up from where he was eating a spoonful of goat cheese straight. "Sounds good."

"Great," Oliver acknowledged before helping Felicity into her coat. He took the time to whisper softly in her ear. "I was going to volunteer Roy anyway."

Sara came around the bar and lined up to give her a hug after Thea.

"So glad you had a good meal, Bug."

"The best," she whispered into her ear, rubbing her back ferociously, trying to convey her gratitude. "Once I get the all clear, why don't we do something, just the two of us? Would that be okay?"

Sara pulled back and gave the woman a look.

"Of _course_ that's okay. I can't wait. Just tell me when and where."

She said her goodbyes to everyone else, unable to hide the yawns that were coming in fairly quick succession by now.

"Did you have a good night?" Oliver asked her as he took her hand in his and rested it between them. A simple gesture with a loaded statement behind it, but she didn't question it, just squeezed his palm lightly.

"The best. The absolute best."

* * *

**A/N: Y'all. Miracle fruits are exactly that - miracles. Not just for chemo patients, although they are SERIOUS life savers, but man oh man - regular taste buds have a party with this stuff. My friends and I had a tasting party (cleverly titled 'Miracle Fruit Madness' by yours truly, ya welcome) and it was just...batty. But seriously awesome. They're available online for sale so if you're ever in the mood, go pick some up. They're great. SEE, I TOLD YOU EVERYTHING WAS GREAT**


	35. Wallowing

**A/N: So, I'm alive, and here's a chapter. I'm not really one for believing that 'everything happens for a reason' or anything, but I do believe that we have to play the hand we're dealt, and sometimes that sucks. For anyone going through a really sucky time in their lives, just remember that it has to end sometime. The world is still a beautiful place, even if doesn't seem like that all the time.**

* * *

The rest of the week went by easily. She had gotten her counts done on Thursday, showed her mom the hospital where she practically lived for one week out of the month, and gotten the all-clear later that day to go out in public, but only just. Her counts were hovering over the acceptable line and she felt bad not mentioning that little fact to Oliver. There were different levels with her white blood counts - one level meant that she had to be in the hospital, another meant that she could be home and with her friends, but not leave the house, and another meant that she could be out in public with strangers and not risk contracting a disease. The physician's assistant that had given her the call that day had told her that it might be in her own best interest to wait a few more days before going out; her counts were technically high enough, but there was never such a thing as 'too many white blood cells' when dealing with chemotherapy. She had briefly contemplated staying in, but at the end of the day, there was no way Felicity was going to deny her mother the simple pleasure of shopping with her.

They had also stuck to their original plan of doing a fancy dinner that Thursday night as well, with Oliver reserving a table at Starling's nicest steakhouse that was actually located in the bottom floor of the Starling Ritz-Carlton hotel, delighting her mother to no end. She was pleasant surprised to have Detective Lance be able to join them that night for dinner too, especially when Felicity had been _convinced_ he had told her the previous week that he had some sort of work function that night that would conflict with the dinner plans. Instead, he showed up in the nicest suit she had ever seen him in, wearing what she thought was cologne, and helping her mother into her chair as Oliver did the same for her.

She hadn't been the only one to notice, but a swift elbow to the stomach and a "_you need to be pulling out _my _chair right now, Roy!_" from Thea was all it took to silence any other comments.

Still, in Felicity's opinion, the nicest, fanciest dinner still couldn't top the night before, with all of her friends laughing and drinking shots of vinegar and chewing lemon rinds. She hadn't been lying when she told Oliver that it had been the best night, and not just since her diagnosis. Disregarding the cancer factor altogether, she couldn't think of one bad thing from the night before. It had been like a dream.

Her mother had departed on Friday morning with only a slightly tearful goodbye, which was an amazing feat, Felicity knew. She had known that she'd be staying in Vegas for the quickly approaching Thanksgiving holiday - it was a pretty busy time for the casinos, and the way the schedule fell, Felicity would be going in for chemo the following day, which would really put a damper on all that leftover eating that she loved so much. When asked about coming for the holidays - either Hanukkah or Christmas or what Felicity was hoping would be a very festive Chrismukkah - her mother surprisingly balked.

"Oliver can fly you again on the jet, mom, it's not a big deal."

"It's not that sweetheart, it's just - well, maybe _before_ Christmas. Or after. I just don't want to intrude on your _first_ Christmas together."

"It's Chrismukkah, first of all, and what do you mean - I mean, yeah, it'll be the first one, but that's more of an inaugural thing, because Oliver's never even had matzo, but don't worry, I am going to start him off small with things like matzo and Nutella, and then I'll give him some rugelach, or oh, maybe some of those pizelles that we used to make when I was little for Hanukkah! He'd love the anise flavored ones even though I think they are so gross because he definitely has a thing for Jagermeister which is another story _entirely_ -"

"Sweetheart, no, it'll be your first holiday as a couple!"

"_What?_ No, mom, how many times have we been over this? Oliver and I are not a couple. We are a him. And a me. And together, yeah, an us, but that's a grammatical thing than a dating type of thing and I just can't believe you thought that; I've _told you _that we aren't together! Like, numerous times."

"You're not together _now_, sweetheart. But it's almost November, and then it'll be December and - and it's far away, but not too far away, do you know what I'm saying?"

"Not even the slightest."

"A lot can happen in two months. That, plus the magic of the season…"

"Alright, Buddy the Elf, why don't you just calm down there. You know what else can happen in two months? I could puke on him one more time and he could decide to move out. So let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"Mother's intuition," Donna Smoak countered.

Felicity didn't even bother to quell the eye roll she instinctively gave at that comment. "For the millionth time, that is not how that works. You can't just say that every time you think something's going to happen. And if that _is_ how it works, I am pretty sure you and I would be millionaires from all that 'mother's intuition' in the casinos."

"Just you wait, baby. You'll see. But either way, I will still love seeing you at Christmas. We haven't spent this much time together in forever!"

"I'm sure it's _just_ my presence in Starling City you're coming back for, right? You know if you date a cop, you can't lie about your age. It's like, against the law or something."

She saw the flush creep up her mother's cheeks and envelope her face and for once it felt nice to be on the observing side of a Smoak embarrassing moment and not on the receiving end.

"Oh, _you_," her mother just swatted her arm and picked up the large duffel that she had next to her. "Are you sure it's okay for Mr. Diggle to take me to the airport? I could call a cab-"

"Don't worry. He's like, the best driver ever. Trust me. And he can get you into the private airstrip no problem, and it's always a huge hassle for a cab, so it's better this way. I'm sorry I can't come with you -"

"Don't be ridiculous, you go get your ears tested or whatever it is you need to do, and I will be fine." She pulled her daughter in for a tight hug, swallowing back the sob that so desperately wanted to escape. "I love you so much and I am so proud of you, you know that? Always and forever, babygirl. Always and forever."

"I know, mom. I love you too." She swallowed hard past the sudden lump that had taken up residence in her throat and eventually pulled back, knowing that they were running the risk of her being late for the scheduled flight plan, and her mother did need to get back to Vegas on time for her shifts that night.

As she watched her mom and Dig pull away, she rested against the side of the hotel lobby, waiting for her own ride to show up in a few minutes. She had the familiar feeling of not being sure what to do now that her mother not only knew about her illness but had come and visited, but she remembered Oliver's words from the week prior. She had a fight ahead of her, and a future ahead of that. She just needed to focus on that and everything would start shaping up.

* * *

It was the following Tuesday and her and Sara were sitting in a deep booth at Ralfio's, enjoying the best brunch that Starling City had to offer when Felicity finally voiced the question that she had been thinking about for almost a week.

"Are you going to tell me what happened with Nyssa?" Sara looked up sharply at that. "You don't have to if you don't want to, or aren't ready or whatever, of course," Felicity backtracked quickly.

"No, it's okay, it's just...we are at two different places right now is all. I need to be here, I know that, and she does too. She's just having a harder time understanding that."

"And that's all it is?" She couldn't help but to feel as if there was something else that Sara wasn't telling her.

"She may also be not as comfortable with my place here as I had initially thought."

"Your place? Like, your apartment? Or like, your...nightly stuff? Or like, your physical placement, which would make sense but also be a little redundant, so I'm not sure-"

"My past relationships, Bug."

"Your past relation...but you haven't really had any of those. And you haven't even been back all that long, so really it's just Oliver." Sara stared at her patiently, until the light bulb went off. "Oh, you _mean_ Oliver! Sorry, sorry, it's just… ugh - chemo brain. Can't seem to understand what my brain wants me to. But you two aren't even - and he's not, and you're not...I just, why?"

"Don't worry, I told her that no matter how charming he is, he's now spoken for." She winked for good measure which just elicited an eye roll from Felicity. "It's just the long distance thing is all."

"Guess even assassins have the same relationship problems that we all do. Or, well, others do. Not me. I don't have a relationship to have problems with. Problem...less. Zero problems. Minus the cancer thing, I guess."

"Yeah, just that little thing," Sara laughed as she lifted her glass of orange juice to her lips, taking a sip. "So, what did you have in mind for today? Anything in particular?"

"Gosh, I hadn't really thought about it. Two more days until I have to check back in and ugh, I am not looking forward to that. But I'm feeling good now. World, oyster, et cetera. We can do whatever!"

"Ok, well, do you still need new jeans? I figure we can do some shopping in the morning and then get some lunch and see how you're feeling and do something else after that."

"Oh, that sounds perfect. Thea tried to take me shopping last month and I swear, cancer or no cancer, that girl would have exhausted anyone. She's like a little fashionable tornado. But totally sweet. Real sweet. Just...tornado."

"She's a good kid. She loves you."

"Who couldn't love this?" Felicity gestured to her face which was now sporting a whipped cream mustache, drawing laughs from her friend in front of her.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, Bug."

* * *

Shopping went, predictably, better than it had when Felicity had accompanied Thea out on one of her many adventures. The new pair was efficient but still had fun and as they were finishing lunch, Felicity was happy to note that she still felt good for the day. Her energy levels were pretty stable and she was having fun hanging out with just a female for the first time in a long time. She loved Thea something fierce, but it was just a bit different with Sara. A little less pressure, somehow. She hadn't realized how badly she craved her presence in her life, but it was clearly something she had missed.

"So, what next? Anything you need to cross off your bucket list? Maybe get a tattoo? Bungee jump?"

"As exciting as that sounds, I think I'll hold off. Until I finish treatment. You never know when a new scar is going to show up, and I'd hate for them to have to like, cut open my tattoo."

She signed her bill with a flourish before looking up to see Sara's jaw dropped.

"You'd _seriously_ consider getting a tattoo? Miss 'I-Throw-Up-At-Needles'? Is this an alternate universe?"

"Hah hah. No, I just - I'm sort of used to them now. Not that the sight of them going into my skin doesn't still make me want to ralph, because it definitely does, but...I don't know. I was kind of thinking about it. YOLO and all that."

"Yo...low?"

"YOLO, it's - ugh, it's something Roy says all the time and now he has me saying it, which is the worst. It's an acronym, it just means 'you only live once.' It's stupid."

"Well, I like the sentiment behind it," Sara told her, standing up. "But if you think you only live once, _whew_, do I have some stories I could tell you. Or, well, couldn't, actually, since they're about the League. But I bet Roy would reconsider his stance on that."

"People can die _more than once_? That sounds -"

"Like something I shouldn't have brought up." She grinned and changed subjects quickly. "So, tattoos are out for now. What's next?"

"I was actually thinking, and you can totally say no if you want to, but I just...want to come somewhere with me?"

* * *

"You two weirdos," Felicity commented affectionately as she entered the young adult's rec room on the pediatric ward. Trey and Cedric were playing Minecraft on the screen and building structures that resembled the more iconic buildings in Starling City.

"Don't hate the player, Homegirl, hate the game!"

"Done, I can definitely do that."

She tried to hide her relief at seeing Trey up and about and without an oxygen mask, although he was still toting a portable oxygen container with him and looked to have a nasal cannula. He looked better though which was just so reassuring to her. His face had its normal complexion back and even though he was definitely on the frailer side of things, by all accounts, he looked as healthy as someone in his position could. It was only when he inhaled to speak to her that she heard the rattling deep in his chest or the barely concealed wince he had with every breath.

The boys paused the game shortly after, looking at Sara behind Felicity who was looking all sorts of good with her black leather bomber jacket and tight jeans.

"You brought a friend? She doesn't look like she got a little 'c.'"

"Am I supposed to be offended?" Sara muttered into Felicity's ear behind her. "What is the little c?"

She let out a small laugh. She supposed to an outsider, it might sound less than flattering, but truth be told, she would give anything to not have 'the little c.'

"No offense needed, he's just talking about cancer. And no, Trey, she doesn't have anything. She's just a friend. Visiting with me. Wanted to see if you guys were bored but it looks like you've got this whole thing taken care of," she gestured to the TV screen.

"Nah, nah, man, it's cool; you guys wanna hang out and play some cards? Alex is going to be in after she gets her last blood draw and then Casey is around here somewhere too. They is a little younger so we'll probably play Uno or something, if that's cool."

She rolled her eyes at his blatant disregard for the English language but there was no heat behind it. Trey was such a good kid. He was only just fitting into the pediatric ward at 17, with his 18th birthday in the spring, but he always went out of his way to be nice to the other kids in the ward, even the younger ones. He'd make sure that they had something to play with or something to do and never blew them off in favor of doing something else that might be deemed 'cooler.' The kids here looked up to him and he took it all in stride, being the best big brother that he could be to these kids.

"C'mon, Trey, we gotta show 'em how CKs do it better!"

"Calvin Klein?" Sara once again whispered into Felicity's ear.

"Nah, man," Trey grinned at her, the first honest, pain-free smile she had seen that afternoon. "Chemo Kids!"

* * *

An hour later and Sara was laughing raucously at something one of the kids had said and Felicity was just grinning happily, loving how her to different worlds were colliding.

Sara hadn't been sure what to expect when Felicity had suggested going to the hospital. She would've thought that after everything, this would be the _last_ place she'd want to go before she had to check in. But spending time with these kids was good for her, she could see that now.

She never talked down to them, instead speaking to them like adults, which was clearly appreciated when so much of these kids' lives were out of their control and they weren't even consulted on half the decisions made on their behalf. She gave them a listening ear as well, patiently nodding along and offering advice when necessary. Sara appreciated the environment as well; it was heartening to see kids dealing with such an awful disease with such life and vigor. As bad as she felt for them, they also gave her hope, gave her a silver lining to search for. If they could do it...so could Felicity.

She also couldn't deny how hilarious these kids were. They had a sort of gallows humor, yes, but coupled with their innate immaturity, it just made everything they said sort of hilarious. They were clearly wiser than their years, having spent so much time with adults, but every now and then a fart joke would come through and their laughter would be so infectious that you couldn't help but to giggle along.

Felicity had left Sara to play cards with Alex, Casey, and two other kids that she was less familiar with - Michael and Ingrid - and was sitting on the nearby couch pouring over an old portable TV with Trey.

"This is dated, even for me, Trey!"

"Ma got it for me $5 at the local pawn shop," he told her proudly, subtly hitting the button on his oxygen tank for a bit more to come through the tube connected to his nose.

"And it gets local channels?"

"It gets _all_ the channels. I used that satellite ping that you showed me and kind of reverse engineered it."

"No way! Really? That's awesome, Trey! Perfect!" She flicked through the wheel on the side, ogling at the fuzzy, yet still distinct, pictures that were displayed. "Bet your mom doesn't even know what she got this for, huh?"

"I mean, I don't know. She got it for me before. Thought it would help me 'recover' if I had some new project."

It was the first time Felicity heard him mention his sudden illness that he was still battling and she knew that she had to hear him out, to let the conversation go where he needed it to.

"And? Did it help?"

"I don't know, Homegirl. Maybe? What's the right answer there?"

"No right answer," She told him lightly. "You're getting better, that's all that matters."

"Yeah, I guess. I just - I mean, I don't know. You got real sick too before, remember?"

"Not likely to forget that in the immediate future."

"Well, like, I don't know. How did you get better?"

Felicity was confused. "You mean the medicine?"

"Nah, I just mean the getting better. It's so fucking hard - sorry, well, no wait, you don't care if I swear, do you?" She shook her head with a small smile. "My bones hurt all the time. I'm so tired. I'm stuck on ward. Everyone's hovering and waiting for me to get better and I've got to seem strong for the others and I just...I don't know. I want to just go and…"

He ran his hands over his face and she had to admit that she had never seen him like this before. For the first time since she had met him, Trey looked like he was struggling. He had every right to feel the way he did, maybe even more so than Felicity did, since it felt like she battled with this sort of doubt on a daily basis, but it was disconcerting for her to see it so blatantly on his face.

"It's not the end of the world if you feel shitty about this, Trey. You're _allowed_ to feel what you feel - don't let others tell you differently."

"Yeah, yeah, because I'm allowed to be a beautiful snowflake or whatever," he mumbled.

"No," she put her hand on his knee until he met her eyes. "Because cancer _is_ shitty. It sucks. And yeah, to think about it like that all the time, that'll bring you down, but that doesn't mean that you can't indulge every now and then. _That's_ why you're allowed to feel how you feel. And also because you're kind of a snowflake, sure."

He laughed a bit at that patting her hand on his knee.

"Now, what did you mean when you said you were still on ward?"

"Ah, yeah," one hand went up to the back of his neck in a gesture of discomfort while the other rubbed his thigh gingerly, and Felicity would bet ten to none that he had the same bruise right there that she had when she woke up from her brief chemical-induced coma, an unfortunate side effect from medicine. "About that…"

"Are you...Trey, are you supposed to even be here?"

"Sort of a philosophical question, Homegirl."

"You know exactly what I mean! In the rec room! If you're still on ward then...Jesus, Trey, my friend Sara is here!"

"She looks pretty healthy to me. And by healthy I mean _damn_, she is one fine-"

"Yeah, yeah, she's a hottie, trust me, I know, and she's pretty damn healthy but that's not the point. How low are your counts?"

"Not _that_ low."

"Low enough," she gritted out. "You're gonna be the death of me, I swear."

"Statistically speaking, it'll probably be the cancer. Or an infection, like the one I got stuck with."

"Wiseass."

"Just sayin'. I almost wish - I mean, I don't _wish_, but I mean…"

"What?"

"C'mon, Felicity. I haven't gone home in months. That infection kicked my ass and almost did more. It still _is_ doing more. I'm getting insane chemo every other week and this tumor is only growing bigger. Just fuckin' tired."

"Yeah," she breathed. She didn't have the right words to say to him. She didn't know what to say to someone who felt the same way about things that she did. She knew that she should be encouraging him to fight and to never give up, but sometimes all you wanted to do was sit and wallow, and it was rare that you could find someone who would understand that desire.

So that's what she did. She rested her head on his shoulder, and the two of them sat in silence. Wallowing.

* * *

It was an interesting change of pace when Sara brought Felicity back home. Oliver wasn't there so Sara took up his role as caregiver. The afternoon had definitely took it all out of Felicity and a nap was desperately needed. She was tired from the shopping and the social interaction, but mostly she was exhausted from her conversation with Trey. She kept repeating all of his words over and over again and seeing the oxygen tank next to him and then seeing the look in his mother's eyes when she and a nurse burst into the rec room to find him because he had snuck out of his room between rounds and she just...was lost. She felt lost at sea and didn't know what to do.

So it was Sara who poured her a glass of water and shoved pajamas at her and helped position the wig on the mannequin stand so the hair wouldn't get bent or curled and it was her who sat on the edge of the bed as she relaxed into the pillows, unable to turn her mind off.

"I keep thinking I'll get used to it," Sara murmured, stirring Felicity out of her thoughts.

"Used to what?"

"Your hair. Or lack thereof, I guess."

"You and me both," she grumbled.

"You're the most beautiful person." The words were stated with such sincerity and such truth that Felicity couldn't even find it in herself to refute them, to tell her that she _had _to be mistaken because there was nothing beautiful about her current freakshow of a body. "Inside and out."

She softly coasted a hand over the fuzz covering Felicity's head, a thin but maintainable half-inch of hair still apparent. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and tears instantly welled in Felicity's eyes. She scooted over on the bed and patted the recently vacated spot next to her.

"Stay for a while?" She wasn't typically a fan of anyone staying and watching her sleep, but she sensed that maybe Sara needed this.

"You don't mind?"

She shook her head tiredly and Sara stretched out beside her, atop the covers instead of underneath like Felicity, and she tentatively interlocked their fingers and rested their hands between them.

"Thanks for coming with me today." Her words were becoming quieter and almost slurred with sleep pulling at her, but she wanted to show her gratitude to her friend one last time.

"Thank you for inviting me. It meant a lot."

"M'so glad you're here," were the last words Felicity managed to get out.

Oliver found both of them asleep two hours later, hands still clasped tightly together.


End file.
